


My Lovely Summer Girl

by unicyclehippo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Summer Camp AU, sunshine and flowers and nothing hurts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:38:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicyclehippo/pseuds/unicyclehippo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin doesn't want to think at all this summer. The plan is simple. Have fun, draw, make friends with the kids, and maybe soak up the sun for a while. Then she meets Lexa and her summer only stands to improve - especially if the campers get their way and manage to get their two favourite counsellors to smooch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh No, Everyone is Attractive

“So how many kids did you say there are?”

“Just shy of one hundred!” Octavia yelled back at her, jumping out of their car with both feet hitting the ground at the same time. That was Octavia for you – she was absolutely a hit first ask questions later, dive right in, jump first think later kind of girl. And it made Clarke – a think first tentatively step forward later, follow the path, don’t hit always ask questions kind of girl herself – love her. Most of the time. Not when Octavia was pulling on her sleeve to drag her out of the car even though she was _obviously_ struggling to unclip her seatbelt, but most of the time.

“O, you’re actually not helping,” she said but it was only the arrival of Lincoln – tall, broad, tanned, and wow okay _shirtless_ – that saved her from imminent suffocation thanks to Octavia’s impatience. “Hey Lincoln.” Her greeting was lost. He was far more interested in his girlfriend. Clarke smashed her hand down on the seatbeat clip, narrowly avoiding decapitation from the belt as it whipped free, and slid out of the enormous car down to the ground. Why Octavia had such a large car she did not understand. The girl was three inches smaller than her!

“Oh, Clarke, hey.” Lincoln had a smile and a greeting for her finally and he helped her grab her bags down from the trunk of the car. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Give me some time,” Clarke said with a tiny smile. “I’m sure I’ll feel the same.”

“You will. It’s really great here.” He hoisted her bags up and, with a nod of his head, led the way to her cabin. “You’re sharing with Octavia,” he said.

“Sort of.” Octavia jumped up onto Lincoln’s back and he only paused long enough to make sure she was on safely. “I’ll actually be with Lincoln.”

“So my roomie will be…”

“No one.” Octavia hurried on before Clarke could feel any disappointment – not that she would. Two months at a beautiful camp, with sunshine and fresh air and a minor workload as well as her own space? She could totally deal with that. “But I’ll be with you all day for the first few days to show you around and we have our meals together and we can hang out after the kids go to bed – I promise I didn’t bring you up here to ignore you the whole time.”

“No.” Clarke smiled properly, for the first time in what felt like forever. “You brought me up here because you’re the best.”

“Damn right I am!” and Lincoln paused so Octavia could bend down and hug her friend. “Oof. Oh crap. Help me up, will you?” she asked Clarke, and the blonde laughed as she pushed at Octavia’s shoulders so she could wrap her arms around Lincoln’s shoulders again.

They changed the topic after that – it was inching towards topics too heavy for them to mention – and Lincoln was happy to point out the mess hall, the lines of dormitories, girls on one side and boys on the other side of camp, the art room (“that’s where you’ll be!” Octavia pointed out helpfully), the stable, the dock, the basketball court, and some strange flat ground that Octavia said was the fencing ring with a strangely ferocious look in her eyes.

“You can unpack tonight,” Lincoln said, placing her bags on her bed, “but now we meet with the other counsellors. Is that alright?”

She just nodded easily. She planned to follow the rules and follow along. No thinking for her this summer. Just going with the flow. Of course, Octavia had laughed herself silly when she said that – “you? Miss Uptight? I would pay to see that” – but she’d come round to it. They both knew it was exactly what she needed.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

Fun, Octavia's smile promised her. Fun and a wonderful summer. But first – the rules.

Lincoln, already not a man prone to excessive smiling, looked stern as he reminded the gathered counsellors in the mess the rules, mostly for Clarke's benefit but also for a few select others. No smoking, no alcohol, no fighting. Nothing too adult with the kids around. No swearing. Pretty simple rules, she thought, as Lincoln went over them in the mess hall. Then there were the less simple rules. No explosions. No rough housing - _definitely_ no eye gouging and groin attacks. No blackmailing or bribing others to do the allotted chores. No forcing campers to do allotted chores. No experiments -  _definitely_ no experiments on the campers. No blackmailing or bribing other counsellors to take allotted classes. No skinny dipping. No poisoning others.

"These are weird rules," Clarke murmured to Octavia, who just grinned. 

"We have 'em for a reason."

Clarke nodded slowly. She had to wonder, just for a moment, what her best friend had got her into. 

“Okay. That's all for now. As we all know, the campers arrive tomorrow and Octavia and our new counsellor have joined us.” Clarke gave a little wave. The others knew each other. Some, like Lincoln, had been there for eight years. Most had joined in the years after that when Camp Jaha had grown and gained popularity – other than Clarke, Octavia was the newest and she had worked there every summer for four years. “Everyone.” Lincoln nodded to Clarke. “This is Clarke Griffin. She’ll be helping with the arts and crafts.” He hesitated but Octavia shook her head no and he continued on. Octavia squeezed Clarke’s hand when she felt it tremble just a touch. A reassurance. It felt like ‘He’s not going to say it’.

“Welcome to Camp Jaha, Clarke. These are the counsellors – Raven. She works on our cars and engines and she’s the best mechanic we’ve ever had.”

A woman about Clarke’s age lifted her hand. “Best mechanic period, Lincoln. Well, in the northern hemisphere definitely.” That gained her a few chuckles and Raven grinned. “Hey Clarke, nice to meet you.” She leant back into the crowd and Clarke’s eyes dropped from her face – which, _wow,_ was everyone at the camp ridiculously attractive? Maybe it was something to do with being outdoors all the time. Her eyes dropped to the brace wrapped around the woman’s leg and then Lincoln was talking and she moved to the next face.

“Finn, he takes hiking groups and teaches tracking and wilderness skills.” Finn, next to Raven, smiled kindly at Clarke. He had long hair and, again, an attractive face (kind too, and his smile was welcoming) and, she noted, a hand on Raven’s leg.

“Bellamy, I believe you’ve met.” Clarke and Bellamy nodded.

“Octavia’s brother, hey” he introduced himself, stepping forward to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you again.” His smile was too soft and his hand lingered too long and Clarke tried her best not to rip away from him because the last thing she wanted to do while she was here was have someone treat her like she was soft and fragile. Octavia gave her another squeeze. That one felt like ‘I’ll talk to him’.

“Bell, don’t drag on my coat tails. He takes the kiddies on adventure trails and activities and stuff," Octavia told Clarke. "He’s not _just_ my brother.”

“I’m also a chaperone,” Bellamy said, and Octavia rolled her eyes.

“Please, you say that like it doesn’t make you the most lame counsellor.” Clarke stifled a laugh when Bellamy feigned offense and Lincoln smiled when Octavia smiled.

“Abby, our resident nurse,” he said, and the woman smiled happily over at Clarke,"and her assistant Maya," a younger woman waved, also able to be described as unnecessarily attractive Clarke thought, “Monty and Jasper,” the guys raised their hands, knocking into one another and prompting a slight scuffle. “Monty works with plants and teaches the kids how to identify them and he's kind of amazing with technology as well." He blushed and ducked his head and Clarke had to smile. She thought perhaps she might like spending time with him. "And Jasper here is a whiz at science.”

“Well, here I mostly like to cook,” he said, and Clarke had to smile at his crooked, goofy grin and his goggles and she had the sneaking suspicion that perhaps he was more mad scientist in the kitchen than chef. “Nice to meet you, Clarke,” he said, and Monty nodded quickly, offering his own smile.

“And last but not least,” Lincoln frowned and searched for the last face in the crowd, finding it sitting behind Monty, “Lexa.”

Stupid, really.

Clarke felt her heart stop in her chest – she hoped it didn’t really because that was probably an actual physiological disaster – when she saw her face.

She was beautiful.

Achingly beautiful.

She could make out quick moving fingers working with something on the table, she could make out toned forearms with faint scarring dashed across them, she could make out the sweet slope of her neck under braided hair that she ached to dig her fingers into and muss because that would look stunning and she wondered if she could capture it on paper or whether it would escape her – but that thought didn’t bother her because if she couldn’t the first time then maybe the time after that or the time after that she would figure out how to get it down just right.

“Lexa works with horses and teaches fencing and practical skills,” Lincoln was saying, but his voice sounded like so much white noise in comparison to the clarity that was Lexa’s face. And then the woman looked up and right at her and Clarke hoped she wasn’t gaping, that she had enough control over her body to not make herself into that much of a fool, but she knew that she was staring. How could she not?

Bright green eyes met hers and they were clear and they weren’t welcoming, no, not exactly, but they were thoughtful and considering and her eyebrows were bunching just slightly and she was _so_ expressive oh she was beautiful with white teeth digging down into her lower lip and fingers moving though she wasn’t looking at her task and she was intriguing and had she mentioned beautiful and oh dear.

Clarke was in trouble.


	2. Flowers and Fencing

There was someone following her. They were hiding behind buildings and rushing to catch up before they hid again and Clarke was starting to get nervous. Until she remembered that the only people for miles were nearly 100 teens and pre-teens and the other counsellors so she most likely wasn't in any danger. 

She was certain she wasn't in any danger when she sat down on one of the benches outside the mess hall and finally spotted the kid who had been following her. She probably only stood as tall as Clarke's hip and Clarke had to resist saying  _aww_ whenever she saw the little girl. Six years old and terribly fierce, Indra was peering around the side of the building to stare at Clarke. She hid for a moment when Clarke smiled at her and waved but then, looking around, she scampered over and flung herself at the blonde. 

"Hey Indra, what's the matter?"

"Nothing!" the girl proclaimed, crossing her arms and scowling up at Clarke. 

"Oh. Okay." Tear tracks on the little girl's cheeks said otherwise but if she pointed that out, she was sure the kid would kick her in the shin and run. It happened to Bellamy that morning. Clarke was fond of her shins so she just plucked a long blade of grass and started twisting it into a ring. "How are you liking camp?" she asked. 

Indra struggled to climb up onto the bench next to Clarke - she struggled away from Clarke's hands when the older girl tried to help her so Clarke stopped, that being just too much struggling in total and she was afraid that Indra would combust so she left her to it - and she blinked over at the grass ring. "It's okay," the girl said quietly. 

"I'm new to camp as well," Clarke said, focusing on making her ring so that Indra could shift a little closer and relax against her side. "I think I really like hiking-" were words she never thought would come out of her mouth but it was incredibly beautiful here and kids didn't walk fast so she could just meander along and it was actually pretty fun. "What's your favourite activity, Indra?" 

"Sword fighting!" the girl growled darkly, jabbing an imaginary sword at an imaginary enemy, expression twisting as her hand did, and Clarke swallowed because holy crap possibly the six year old was imagining skewering someone on the end of her blade and maybe she was next. Indra ignored her nervous laugh and also ignored the blonde when she suggested quietly that oh well okay but it was actually called fencing. "I also like flowers," she said, nodding.

"You're in my class tomorrow morning," Clarke said, finishing her grass ring and holding it out to Indra for her to take. The little smile that lit up the girl's face was beyond sweet, beyond adorable. "Speaking of class," she said, "aren't you meant to be in one right now?"

Indra shrugged, slipping the ring onto her finger. She beamed down at it, wiggling her fingers. "Yes."

"So why aren't you?"

Indra narrowed her eyes up at Clarke. "If you tell anyone," she said, slowly, thoughtfully, "you'll be my enemy." 

"I don't want that." She really didn't. 

"No. You don't."

"So what happened?"

"I got lost," Indra confessed after a moment. "An' I was scared for a bit but then I saw you."

"Well I'm here to help," Clarke said, and she hugged the girl to her side for a moment and Indra sniffed. She vowed to find out who was supposed to be looking after the kid and kick their ass because she'd obviously been terrified before she found Clarke.

"Where are you supposed to be, Indra? Do you know?"

The girl shrugged. "Can you take me to Lexa?"

It was a strange way of answering Clarke's question so she asked, to clarify, "Are you in her fencing class?" She hoped the answer was no because she didn't think she was up to kicking Lexa's ass. But for Indra's sake, she would try. 

Indra paused. Scrunched her face up thoughtfully. Then, "Yes," she said slowly. 

"Okay, well that was a lie. Do you want to try again?"

"I wanna learn to sword fight," she said, "and I wanna learn now. An' she's the greatest! She's the smartest an' the bravest an' the best an' she's gonna teach me and I'm gonna be a _knight_." Indra pushed up to stand and she grabbed on Clarke's shoulder and she looked at Clarke impatiently until the older girl realised that Indra wanted a piggy back ride and she actually rolled her eyes when Clarke said 'oh' and crouched down for her. "Let's go to Lexa," she commanded and Clarke decided there couldn't be too much harm in letting Indra get her way. And possibly if she didn't, Indra would kill her, so she was going to go with it. 

Indra was  _not_ a good passenger. 

"Indra, if you kick me again, I will put you in time out," she said mildly but with enough of an edge to it so the child knew she was serious. Indra paused, about to kick Clarke in the side again to make her go faster, and thought better of it. "What do you like about flowers?"

"They're pretty an' they smell nice." Indra yawned, resting her chin on Clarke's shoulder. (She did her best to move less quickly then, not wanting to jostle the girl.) "An' you can make flower crown an' presents an' give a bunch to people an' they're real soft." Her hand twisted in the end of Clarke's hair, stroking it. "Your hair is nice," she said. 

"Thanks. I like your hair too. Maybe tomorrow we can make you a really good crown," she offered. She felt Indra's cheek squishing against her shoulder and bunching in a smile. Then a nod. And then they were drawing near the fencing ring and Clarke paused for a moment because wow Lexa had stripped down to her tank top and a padded vest and her arms were just wow. Her hair was tied back, in tighter braids, and they were still quite far away but as Clarke let her feet carry her closer, she started making out the details that were oh so wonderful - the bunching of her muscles, the sweat on her neck, the sudden and quick movement that sent her opponents sword spinning out of their hand, the expression so near to a smirk on her lips. 

Lexa called for a stop when she saw Clarke. 

"Is something wrong?" she asked and Clarke hoped that at some point, the other girl wouldn't sound quite so stiff and unsure around her. She would have to talk to Octavia and figure out a way to make the girl more comfortable - maybe there was something they had in common that Clarke could use to break the ice. But for now, work. 

"No. But you have a fan." Lexa frowned, confused, and Clarke's answering grin was light and happy and teasing and Lexa ignored the swooping of her stomach. "This," Clarke said, turning a little so that Lexa could see the little girl draped loosely over her back, "is Indra. She wants you to teach her how to sword fight."

"I see."

"She's asleep though."

"I can see that also." Lexa ran a hand over her hair. 

Clarke tried not to drool - it would be absolutely too embarrassing, but absolutely understandable as well she thought, to drool over Lexa's toned arms and the tiny peek of a hip she got from where her shift lifted with her movement. 

"You're really good at that." Clarke nodded toward the fencing ring.

"Thank you."

"Sure."

Clarke shifted a little, lifting Indra higher on her back. "Oh. Would you like me to take her?" Lexa offered. 

"No, that's alright. I think I'm just going to walk her around the camp for a bit. You've got class and I'm free at the moment." Clarke smiled. "But thanks for the offer."

"You're welcome." Lexa shifted in place, not wanting to turn away from that warm smile.

Clarke paused. "Well, okay then." She didn't want to move away either. Lexa's muscle definition aside, there was something slow and thoughtful and sweet in her eyes and something wonderful in her tiny smiles that made Clarke want to stay and try to get her to smile again. "I'll go for a walk then," she said softly. 

"You should take the Honey Trail. It is short but it is quite beautiful and never strays far from camp." 

"That sounds nice."

"It is."

"Well, thank you then." Still neither of them moved. 

"I'm station 3 on the radio," Lexa said. "If you get into any trouble."

"Station 3." Clarke nodded. "Got it." Her legs didn't want to move. Okay, no, that was a lie. They were aching a little from staying in the same place with Indra a dead weight on her back, but she didn't want to move. 

"I hope to see you here again, Clarke. With Indra, that is," and Lexa cleared her throat and looked down at the fencing sword in her hands and she nodded. 

"I'll bring her back when she's awake."

"Yes, you should," Lexa began but then her class was finally tired of waiting as their instructor chatted with the pretty new counsellor and they began to whine and fidget. "I should go," she said. "Station 3, remember."

"I will." 

And then Clarke was turning and climbing up the slight hill, Indra fast fast  _fast_ asleep on her back, and Lexa allowed herself a slight smile before she wiped it away and turned on her students. Disrespectful, to interrupt a conversation. She would have to teach them all a lesson. 

She didn't see the small circle of children in the back of the class, murmuring quietly to each other and, if she had, it would never have occurred to her that they were talking about her or Clarke. Or that they were plotting. If it had, she would have pushed them until they dropped. As it was, they were only mildly sore when she ended their class. 


	3. In Which Clarke Gains An Army

" _You said there wouldn't be many of them Octavia!"_ Clarke hissed, panicked, into the radio. There was a moment of silence and then,

" _Clarke, if you're done talking you have to say over. Over."_

_"Someone gave them unholy amounts of sugar. Over."_

_"Oh. Over."_

_"Was it you? I swear I will hunt you down and feed you to them."_ Just the crackle of static met her. Clarke growled. " _Over_."

" _Look just let them wear themselves out for a bit and_ -" Clarke stopped listening when suddenly there was something heavy falling and she realised that she was going to have to take charge and do this herself. 

" _Nevermind_ ," she said and Octavia fell silent because damn, Clarke sounded like she was on a mission. " _I've got this_." She clipped her radio to her belt. In hindsight, maybe she wasn't prepared enough for what teaching these kids would take. But she was stubborn and she wasn't about to let a horde of children, as terrifying as they might be in their combined mega state, overrun her class. 

She stepped out into the chaos and placed her hands on her hips and said, calm and quiet and in control: "Sit. Down." 

The wave of obedience spread out, from the kid standing next to her who seemed to just lose all of his energy and flop to the ground, to the girl on the opposite end on the room who slowly put back a large paintbrush and eased herself into the nearest seat. 

"Thank you." They were rewarded with a bright smile and, though Clarke didn't know it yet, they were hers completely in that moment. "Now, I get that you are all excited, yeah?" They nodded. "Who likes face painting?" she asked. 

"Face painting is for babies," one boy - probably ten - said and Clarke smiled again. 

The children held their breath. 

That smile was a challenge. Clarke licked her lips. "You think so?"

"I know so!"

"Murphy, right?" He nodded. "Well Murphy, I'll tell you what. Do you have a favourite animal? Or a superhero?" He shrugged and Clarke made her way through the class to the wall, where she pulled out a few little tubs of face paint. "I'll paint my own face, and then you won't look like a baby if I can't do it right. What should I paint?"

"Do you know Spiderman?"

"Not personally," she said, laughing at her own joke. He blinked at her. Unimpressed. "Okay, tough crowd. Yeah, I know Spiderman." She set up a mirror and drew a line down the centre of her face. "I don't want you guys to think that it's not me when I'm done," she teased, "so I'll just do half my face." They scrambled around the table to get a better look, some of the smaller kids sitting on top of the table, the taller ones on tip-toes looking over their shoulders. They watched as she painted half her face red and dragged a black web design over the top of it, black thick lines around her eyes as well. And when she was done (not perfect but she was on a bit of a time limit there) she raised her eyebrows at Murphy. "What do you think?"

All eyes on him, he let her have a shrug and a grin. "It's wicked."

"Alright that's what I thought." He even reluctantly high-fived her and Clarke turned to her class. "So, who wants to be a superhero?"

In a matter of minutes, they were all seated quietly at the table, building and cutting and gluing with paper and cardboard and Clarke went around to each of them and quietly discussed their project - "I'm making a spaceship," Wells told her quietly, showing her the very precise design - "I'm making a bow and arrow," a girl said, "and I wanna be Hawkeye" - "can I be a lion?" - "I am a king," Murphy told her imperiously, and she really should be scared by how quickly he had roped other kids into helping him make a throne but they seemed to be having fun as well so she put aside her fears of his growing megalomania and drew him a crown and, at his prompting, a lightning scar because "Harry Potter is cool or whatever". He ruled over his domain but he abandoned it for a bit when one of the rockets on Wells spaceship fell off when he was zooming it around the room and he helped fix it with a touch of glue. 

Lunch came far too soon, four of the kids still without face paint, and she calmed them down assuring them she would take the paint to their lunchtime and make sure everyone had what they wanted. She was glad that most of the other kids were on the day hike - her hands hurt from holding the paintbrush and she didn't know what she would do if she was swamped by more. 

"Alright, kiddies - you too, King Murphy, up and out. Lunchtime." He scowled and sulked and skulked away from his throne but he did leave and they waited patiently in a line for Clarke to check them all off the roster, lock the art room, and walked single file behind her for all of a minute before they all wanted to hold her hand and decided that tripping her (accidentally, of course, as they swarmed her) was the best idea they had ever had. "Jackson, come on, quick march - Monroe, put down that frog, where did you even find it? - Murphy, sorry, King Murphy, leave Atom alone. Charlotte, don't wave that around, okay yes come on, you can hold my hand. Miller! The mess hall is this way, come on buddy."

She liked the kids. She liked how happy and friendly and enthusiastic they were. But a walk that took her three minutes usually should not take seventeen and it should not come hand in hand with the near constant fear that she was about to step on one of them or trip while she was trying  _not_ to step on one of them and hurt herself. Finally, she had enough and she stopped still. "That's it!" she barked. She raised her eyes to the sky, begging whoever or whatever was out their for guidance, patience. When she looked back down, there was a familiar face at the door of the mess hall and, though Clarke started to smile, Lexa and her whole incredible, army, discipline bit she had seen the day before gave her an idea. She turned to look down at her campers.

"Fall in, campers." They looked up at her, confused. "Single line," she clarified, and they pushed and shoved - they stopped pushing and shoving when she narrowed her eyes reprovingly - and then they were in one line and she nodded. "Good. Now, let's try this again. Nice and quick march." And, because they were young enough to enjoy anything when it was made into a game, she lifted her feet and marched in place. "Ready?"

"Yes" "Yeah" "I guess" were the messy answers she got.

"I'm looking for Yes Clarke!" she told them. "Now, are you ready?"

"Yes Clarke!" they shouted back and she nodded. 

"Let's go!" She marched next to them, her scraggly little army, and marched them right up to the door, nodding and waving them into the lunch hall. She could hear Jasper greeting them as they ran in and she had to smile because he was probably the sweetest guy ever. 

"Oh man!" she could hear. "Monroe, you look totally wicked! And Murphy, is that a Potter scar?  _Dude_." She heard him complimenting them all by name and Clarke's smile grew. Then dropped. Because of course Lexa was still there and she had seen the whole thing and she was  _smirking_ at her. Rude. 

"Hey," she said, pushing her hand back through her hair and trying not to make it obvious that it was actually knotted and a little tangled because the girls in her class had decided they wanted to try their hand at braiding. She also thought there might be some coloured string tied in there as well. 

"Hello."

"Hi."

"You said that already," Lexa pointed out, crossing her arms.

"Yes, yes I did." Clarke dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt and bit her lip, looking to the side.  _Please don't do something embarrassing_ , she begged herself. "How is your day off?" she asked. Small talk. Small talk was safe. 

"It is going well. And your classes? How are they?"

"Good, good, yeah. The kids are great. Someone gave them candy this morning though so they were a bit  _super_ energised," she rolled her eyes and Lexa nodded understandingly. 

"And you are settling in well?"

"Everyone is great. And it's lovely here."

"It is, yes."

The worst thing about small talk, Clarke was abruptly reminded, was that it didn't and couldn't last forever. 

"So," she said.

"I," Lexa began at the same time. She gestured for Clarke to continue, but she was already shaking her head and motioning for Lexa to speak. "I was just going to say," she said, and she smirked again and Clarke forced herself to look away from her lips, "that I like your face paint."

"Oh. Thanks." Clarke grinned. "I can do you if you want." She paused. "Your face. I mean, I could paint your face. Not," she shook her head. "I mean," and she would have continued her babbling if Lexa had not laughed and stolen away all the breath she had meant to use for talking. "Facepaint," Clarke said awkwardly, not even caring that it sounded silly, because Lexa was honestly smiling at her and she thought it was incredible. She was right. But she was wrong in that she thought it was the most incredible thing that had happened to her because in the next moment, Lexa pushed off the wall and stepped toward Clarke, leaning in just a touch so that she could speak directly into her ear.

She murmured, voice low, "I might take you up on that," and she sauntered away as though she hadn't purposefully just tried to make Clarke faint.

Clarke made it those few last steps into the mess hall and she sank into her seat. She barely tasted her lunch, she finished the masks the kids asked her for, and then she sat at the edge of the hall until Jasper dropped into place next to her and sing-songed under his breath, "Someone's got a cru-ush." 

"What?"

"There's a window," he told her, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. "I saw  _everything_."

"No," she breathed.

"Oh yes. Someone's got it  _bad_."

"I don't!" Clarke denied - she very much did.

"Huh?" Jasper frowned at Clarke. His frown lightened when he realised what Clarke was saying. "Oh man. Oh boy. Oh man, this is great. I was talking about Lexa! But if you, and if she..." He grinned. "This is great, awesome." He grabbed his radio and pouted when Clarke snatched it off him.

"NO. You can't tell anyone."

"But Monty-"

"No. Not even Monty."

Jasper's heartbreak was evident all over his face. "But I tell Monty everything. He's my bro."

"You and your bro will be locked in my art room over the weekend if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone." Clarke narrowed her eyes. "Especially Octavia."

Jasper gulped. Nodded. 

Clarke slid his radio back over - she didn't see a small group of children sitting oddly still, their backs to the two counsellors, listening intently to everything being said - and she fiddling with her fork for a moment. "About Lexa, though," she said quietly, trying not to flush when he grinned. "You think she does?"

"Sorry Clarke." He shrugged. "I'm not allowed to breathe a word of it to anyone."


	4. Emotions Are For Nerds

She was awake at four in the morning and she hated herself for it. 

Four in the morning brought things with it like  _memories_ and  _emotions_ and Clarke had sworn off those two things especially - and some other stuff, crying, thinking, moping, imagining unnecessarily sad scenarios about strangers et cetera - when she had arrived at camp. Four in the morning was a time for sleeping. Four in the morning was a time for anger at not being able to sleep.  _  
_

Anger was easier than her other options. Those...those she didn't want to deal with. 

She kicked her sheets off her and hissed at the cold floorboards but pattered across the room to the bathroom. Maybe she just had to pee. She would pee, dive back into bed, and fall back to sleep. Problem solved. 

Problem not solved. Half an hour later she had peed, drunk water, gone to the toilet again (just in case she had been right), changed positions in the bed four times, and she was terribly, terribly awake. It couldn't be that she wasn't tired either, because she could feel exhaustion pulling at her eyelids and her limbs and she had only gone to bed in the wee hours of the morning so it definitely wasn't that she was wide awake and rested. No. It was something else. 

"Clarke?" 

Her head jerked up at the soft voice and equally soft eyes of her friend in the doorway. She had missed the sound of the door inching open, but she didn't miss the concerned tilt to Octavia's head. Or that she made her way over to Clarke's bed and jumped in with her, toeing off her shoes. 

"What's up, girl?"

"Nothing." 

"Oh come on. You've never been a morning person, Clarke, and I know that your week here hasn't changed you that much." She nudged her lightly and waited, letting Clarke lean her head on her shoulder. "Spill, little miss."

"Is it..." Clarke's murmur trailed off. She pulled her knees up to her chest and turned her face more into Octavia's shoulder, hiding behind the cascade of hair that fell over her face. "Is it okay if I don't?"

"Yeah," Octavia said. "But can I make a suggestion?" She waited until Clarke nodded. "Come outside with me." Octavia slid her hand into Clarke's and squeezed. "It's a beautiful day," she wheedled, "and the lake is super pretty this time of day. Sunrise and all that." She pressed her lips in a friendly kiss to the top of Clarke's head and then, because she knew her friend and she knew that she would be burying everything, hiding, wanting nothing more than to slip into her moping headspace but, as best friend, she couldn't allow that, she smiled and bounced on the bed. "Please, please, please, please, please," she bothered Clarke until Clarke groaned and flopped onto her bed. 

"Yes, fine," she grumbled and she couldn't help but smile at Octavia's squeal. "It's co- _old_ ," she whined, but still she let her friend drag and push her out of her cabin and she obediently pulled on her shoes when Octavia poked her (again and again and again until Clarke slapped her hands away and snapped  _"fine_ , I'm  _doing_ it O, leave me alone") and she let her friend link arms with her and drag her down to the edge of the lake. 

It really was beautiful. She leant against Octavia and held out her hand and smiled when Octavia didn't pause even for a second, just slapped her hand on top of Clarke's and entwined their fingers, and they sat until the sun became less shy and lifted its head above the line of trees. Clarke held her breath - any thoughts other than colour and brush and light became meaningless. Everything was burnished bright and she wished there was some way to incorporate heat into a painting, some way of letting them know when they looked at the view that the sun felt like honey tasted, that the warmth was instant and cloying and pleasant. The reflection in tiny tens of thousands of diamond points on the lake, though, was too much to deal with so they laid back on the grass. The sky was the brightest blue Clarke had ever seen and the clouds dashed white and flat over their canvas. 

She let herself relax. Let herself think about the light sketches she would make of the clouds, the trees. How to make the lake look flat and still and peaceful but still hint at those currents underneath that let the slight rise and fall of the water possible. Most of all, she imagined Octavia's face and the familiar lines of jaw and nose and eyebrows and she knew how that portrait felt under her fingers because she had drawn it time and again and it brought comfort along with that unshakeable melancholy at times like these. But for now, she let the sun brighten it instead and beat back the grey and the sadness and she decided if she did draw at all today it would be with greens and blues and yellows and charcoal she wouldn't touch. Depth be damned, sometimes she just didn't want black to stick to her skin. 

"I'm glad you brought me here, O," she said quietly, and she rolled her head to the side to smile at her friend. Octavia, eyes closed, basking in the sun. She imprinted that - so relaxed, the camp was good for her too, and she felt a fleeting guilt that she hadn't talked to her about any of it because she knew that her friend must be feeling it too, but for today at least she thought she could put it off. One more day. She imprinted the look of happiness and serenity in her memory. It would be some time before she saw it again, she knew, with Octavia being a handful at the best of times and a full basket at the worst.  

"Glad you came," she muttered back. 

"No, seriously." Clarke rolled over so her face was over Octavia's. 

"Get out of my sun."

"No. I'm trying to connect with you," she said. 

"You? Emotionally connecting with me?" Octavia teased. "You, Clarke emotions-are-gross Griffin? Alright, hit me with them."

"No, I'm done. I said thank you."

"Clarke, that's not exactly bearing your soul, you know," she said, eyes rolling. 

"Okay fine. I love you and thank you for dragging me up here. You're my long lost sister and I have such great, overwhelming love for you," Clarke said flatly. Octavia scrunched her nose.

"Gross."

"I am  _hurt_ by that," she said and then she was laughing because Octavia flicked her in the nose and that, she knew, was a challenge. "You'd better run, O."

"A Blake? Running from a fight?" She bared her teeth. "I don't think so."

Which, naturally, is how the two of them ended up fighting. Clarke, trying to pin Octavia down and remind her of her love, pressing kisses to her forehead and her battle cry "let me love you, my emotions are real" and Octavia squirming away, her battle cry the simple yet effective chant of "ew ew ew, gross gross gross". 

And, naturally, of all the people to have seen them making fools of themselves, Lexa was the one to be walking past when Clarke relented and sat back on Octavia's stomach, hair wild and knotted from their fight, flushed red and grinning stupidly. Lexa just raised her eyebrows and continued her slow walk back to her cabin. Octavia shoved Clarke hard off her to the side, breaking the blonde's line of sight, and she flipped over onto her knees and grinned. 

"Sorry for stopping your early morning eye sex with Lexa."

Clarke tried not to choke on her tongue. "It wasn't, I wasn't, that's not-" she frowned when Octavia started laughing. "I hope you know I hate you."

"You just spent like ten minutes loudly saying the opposite while I was pinned underneath you," she said, complete with a suggestive eye waggle, and she dodged Clarke's hand when she tried to slap her hard on the shoulder. 

"Gross, O."

"Oh please. We both know that I'm fine as heck. And we both know that you have your eye on someone else." Octavia poked her. "So? Lexa's hot, yeah?"

"Sure, I guess." Clarke didn't convince anyone with that sub-par attempt at nonchalance. She continued. "I just don't get why she is always around when I'm doing something stupid or embarrassing. Everytime!" she said. "I'm serious. Every time."

"That's the irrefutable law of crushes." Octavia shrugged. "They always see you do weird stuff."

"What? I don't, crush? Pfft." Clarke waved her hand in front of her too-red face. "I do  _not_ -" Octavia just raised her eyebrows and Clarke lowered her head in defeat. "That obvious?"

"Ha! Yeah. But hey, that's how you figure out if they're someone you want to date. Your crush sees you being an idiot and they either think 'wow what a stupid idiot' or they think 'this incredible dork, I must have them'." Octavia smiled at Clarke's hopeful look. 

"And Lexa?"

"Sorry, can't help. Never been able to read her. She's a closed book, that one. But I can totally tell why you like her. I'm on your side. She is  _hot,"_ Octavia repeated, fanning herself. 

"Yeah but it's not just that, it's - hey. You have a boyfriend. Avert your eyes."

"Please, just because I am in a great relationship - by the way, I think it's kind of rude that you haven't asked me a bunch of questions about how that happened and I'm hurt," Clarke patted her shoulder and she continued, "it doesn't mean that I can't look and damn trust me I have noticed that she has some really great assets, if you know what I mean."

" _Octavia!"_

"Alright, alright. Fine. Tell me about your feelings then. You were gonna say something about how it's not just that she's really hot or something lame like that."

Clarke crossed her legs and fixed her best friend with a narrowed, examining gaze. "I know you have emotional depth in you somewhere, Octavia."

"Talking about depth, Lincoln gets-"

"LA LA LA no oh god, this is not a conversation I want to be a part of," they heard, scandalised and loud, from a few paces to their right. Bellamy covered his eyes and groaned, retreating. "I came to tell you that breakfast is ready and this is the thanks I get?"

"Boo, Bellamy," Clarke yelled at his retreating back. "Thanks a lot! She was just getting to the good parts!" He ran faster. 

"So." Octavia plucked a handful of grass from the ground, braiding it together, and she carefully didn't look at Clarke when she asked. "You were saying something?" she prompted, and then fell silent because she of all people knew that sometimes Clarke needed some time to think about her words. And whether she wanted to say them or not. 

"She's just...different," Clarke said finally and she looked small and embarrassed and fiddled with the strap of her watch and Octavia just nodded, accepting it as a complete answer. Or, the most complete answer she would get right now. She got the feeling Clarke didn't understand it herself even. 

"That's cool. Let's go for a swim."

* * *

Swimming - "we have to go before breakfast and by that I mean  _right now_ ," Octavia had told her "because we are responsible adults and food will give us cramps, you idiot" when Clarke complained about being hungry - was heaven. The lake was cold and clean and crisp and Clarke felt like a new woman as she pulled herself through it. She felt light and carefree as she dunked Octavia under and screamed when her friend did the same and stepping out of the lake, she felt more than ready to start the day. 

Maybe, she thought, she should take up swimming in the morning when she went home. 

Then she thought about the likelihood of ever waking up before seven again and  _purposefully_ and rejected that thought. 

She was towelling herself off when Octavia joined her, grinning. She nodded over Clarke's shoulder and the blonde turned, catching the back of a very familiar figure. Lexa was hurrying past them, towards the mess hall, and the thought of breakfast with her made Clarke towel faster. 

"Did you see?" Octavia was asking her.

"See what?"

"She almost ran into the no running sign," she laughed. 

"What? Why?"

"Because of  _you_ , dumbo. You were climbing up the ladder and looking all goddessy with your hair and your body and that damn thing you do with your hips I wish I could do-" Octavia continued long after Clarke was blushing red enough to resemble a tomato "-and she saw you and tripped over her damn feet." Octavia knocked into her and pulled the towel out of her hands, drying her hair with it. "Lexa and Clarke, sitting in a tree F-U-C-"

"That's not how the song goes, O."

"That's how this one goes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No. More importantly, even if she  _does_ think I'm attractive, how am I supposed to talk to her? I don't know the first thing about her," Clarke said, looking off in the direction Lexa had fled. "What do I say? What do I do?"

"I am two hundred per cent certain you've talked to a girl before." Octavia gasped. "Look, you're doing it right now."

"I will push you right back into the lake," Clarke warned. 

"Fine. But I still can't help you. She keeps to herself a lot, if you haven't noticed. All I know is that she likes dogs and I think she mentioned a sister once. Anna. Annie. I don't know."

"You are incredibly unhelpful."

"Thanks, I try."

"Incredibly."

"Yeah but you love me," Octavia pointed out, running her hands through her hair. Clarke shrugged, making Octavia stop in place and, hands on hips then, glare at her. "You  _do_ ," she insisted. "Admit it. Admit it right now. You have to say it."

"I don't know, O... You're kind of annoying." She tried not to laugh when the smaller girl stamped her foot and lunged at her, climbing up her back.

"Say it, Clarke. It's in the friendship manual for fucks sake."

"No swearing! We're at a kiddies camp." Clarke turned around quickly, trying to dislodge her, and laughed when she clung tighter instead. 

"Stop spinning, you little shit, I'll be sick."

"Get off me then."

"No." Octavia clung all the more tightly and Clarke spun around again, laughing when Octavia groaned. 

Neither of them noticed Lincoln descending from the top of the hill, looking every bit a god carved from obsidian, until he plucked Octavia from Clarke's back and set her on her feet. "No rough housing," he grumbled. "It was the seventh rule. And no swearing," he said, side-eyeing Octavia and trying not to cave in the face of her puppy-dog eyes, "is the fifth." He held his stern expression for a few more moments, until he thought they were appropriately cowed, before he smiled slightly at Octavia. "Are you coming to breakfast?" 

"In a bit," she said, nodding, and jumped up to kiss his cheek. 

He smiled at her, gave Clarke a pleasant nod, and strode off to the mess hall. 

Clarke shook her head. "Okay, not that I want to take him away from you or anything, O-"

"Pfft. Like you could."

"But he is  _very_ fit."

Octavia nodded, watching him until the last possible moment. "Hate to see him leave, love to watch him go," she said wistfully, eyes dropping to his butt. 

"Again?" Bellamy asked them, face falling into despair. "Why do I always have to overhear that crap?" he muttered to himself, running back to his cabin. 

"What's the point in having a brother if you can't mortify him?" Octavia yelled back, before linking arms with Clarke. 

"Not the dragging again," she complained, readying herself to have her shoulder near pulled from its socket. "You don't know your own strength, O."

"No whining! Breakfast time! If we get there soon, you can sit with Lexa!"


	5. Most Important Meal of the Day

Breakfast was a simple affair - go in, get food, eat food, leave. It always had been. 

And then there was Clarke. Clarke who was dragged bodily into the mess hall by her Octavia and then abandoned and stood in the centre of the room while Octavia slipped into the very small space next to their hulking team leader, Lincoln. 

Lexa shouldn't look. She shouldn't, because she knew very easily how looking led to thinking and thinking led to feeling and feeling led to all kinds of messy consequences. But she did look because Clarke's hair was still wet and strands of it clung, wrapped across her neck or shoulder, and she was flushed from arguing or fighting or resisting being dragged and Lexa could just imagine her voice raised in indignation because from what little she had seen, Clarke was passionate and she was bold and she was - ah. She looked away, back down at her breakfast. 

Clarke had seen her. 

It was too late to pretend she hadn't been looking and she didn't want to leave her meal half-eaten - it would hurt Jasper's feelings and she had learnt long ago never to irritate the person who cooks your food. (Also he was nice and had a terrible way of looking incredibly personally hurt when people didn't finish their meals.) Clarke was coming toward her. 

"Hey," Clarke said and Lexa swallowed her mouthful slowly before she looked up. 

"Hello."

"Hi. And good morning." She was impossibly cute, both hands tangled in the towel she had slung over her shoulder, and she disentangled herself for a moment to put clinging strands of hair out of her face. "Is this seat taken?" she asked, tapping the place opposite Lexa. "There's nowhere else to sit, so..."

Lexa pursed her lips, looking at the many, many free chairs in the mess hall and she just raised her eyebrows, pointing it out. 

"I mean, obviously," Clarke said, face flushing a light pink. "But I like having company. So?"

Lexa felt herself nodding, which was strange because she hadn't thought to do it, had actually been considering telling Clarke that she was done and leaving and that she could have the entire table if she chose and she was sure that anyone else would be pleased to sit with her if she required company but something kept her in her seat and slowed her eating so that she could continue when Clarke dropped onto the bench opposite her with her plate. 

She was such a liar.

She knew why she didn't move.

A lot of it had to do with the smile that formed when Clarke looked up from her plate and saw Lexa looking at her. (It grew when Lexa ducked her head, because something about the stoic girl being shy was so wonderful, so butterflies-in-your-stomach inducing, that she couldn't help but smile.)

"I can go, if you want," Clarke offered. "If you would rather eat by yourself."

Lexa shrugged. Bit on her tongue to stop herself from speaking too soon, too fast, and embarrassing herself. "No," still spilt from her lips a little quickly and almost desperate. "This is fine."

"Okay great!" There was a moment of silence and then, "so, do you like dogs?"

"Dogs?"

"Yeah. Four-legged, usually. Like to bark? Dig holes, chase things, apparent lifelong enemies with cats." Clarke twirled her fork in the air. "Dogs."

"Sure." Lexa tilted her head very slightly. 

"Do you own a dog?"

"No."

It was fascinating - and by fascinating, she meant odd - to see Clarke duck her head then and mutter, words that sounded awfully like 'bad information' and 'dammit Octavia'. 

"Do you?" Lexa asked. She suspected she knew what was going on, a game of sorts like twenty questions. She had seen the children playing it in their first week and she had overheard versions of it as Clarke got to know the other counsellors. She supposed she was next in line. And so long as Clarke was smiling at her, she rather thought that she was very happy to go along with it. 

"No. Used to. But I moved out and he lives with my mum so." Clarke shrugged. "I see him on the holidays though." 

Lexa nodded. "My place does not allow pets," and she wondered why she was telling her that because the game was supposed to be quite quick and exact - question and answer - but Clarke was listening and she had her chin propped on her hand and she was eating like it was an afterthought even though Lexa, from far across the hall, had heard her stomach growl like a beast when she had walked over to the breakfast area and it was far from unpleasant to be the focus of her attention. "But I have always wanted a German Shepherd."

"Oh they're beautiful," Clarke agreed with a soft voice and bright eyes. "I can totally see you with one." She trailed off for a moment, eyes shifting up and to the left, slightly dazed. Lexa wondered if she knew that her right hand was moving slightly, sketching into her eggs. 

"Clarke?"

"Huh? Yeah?"

"You zoned out."

"Sorry, yeah, I was just kind of imagining a comic book situation," she explained, "with you and your trusty dog sidekick. Totally lame. Sorry." She hunched down over her breakfast and shovelled a fork load into her mouth. 

"I would like to see that," Lexa said slowly and carefully. She didn't want to pressure Clarke into drawing it but she didn't want her to think that her talent was something laughable. "If ever you cared to draw it." She scratched her forehead lightly, blocking her face from Clarke's vision because the girl lit up at Lexa's words and smiled across at her and the weight of her happiness was palpable and honest and she didn't understand how Clarke was so unabashedly open. 

It was something she had noticed about Clarke already. It was hard to miss.

She was brave. That was it. 

There were moments, Lexa was sure, when she had caught Clarke on the edge of sadness. Where instead of wonder as she gazed out at the trees and at the lake, there was melancholy. And every day on the cusp of night, she had seen Clarke with a somber face sitting on the steps of her cabin and dragging a charcoal stick across a blank white page. She didn't know what she filled the page with - she felt like an intruder even knowing that Clarke did it - but she knew that it was important to Clarke. And that was frightening, how easily Clarke showed herself. Hurt like that, a hurt that  _stayed_ like that, a hurt you couldn't shake no matter how much time or how hard you tried, a hurt that lingered under the surface, was private. Lexa thought it had to be, that it was something you hid because hurt was weakness and weakness was a detriment to character. Wasn't it? 

Lexa frowned heavily down at her plate. 

"Lexa?" That was Clarke's voice. Her hand was extended part way over the table, towards her, and she looked concerned. "I guess it was your turn to zone out, huh?"

"Forgive me," Lexa said stiffly. "That was rude of me."

"No, no, you're totally fine. I just wanted to check I wasn't boring you silly."

Lexa didn't know what possessed her to say it but her voice softened and she dropped her chin to her chest, placing knife and fork neatly on her plate, and said, "No, Clarke, that would be quite unlikely." She cleared her throat. "You are..."

Clarke began to supply words when one didn't come. "Fascinating," she said. "Wonderful. Intriguing. Incredible." She frowned thoughtfully. "Sublime. Oh - I've got it. Egregious."

Lexa rolled her eyes. "Interesting enough, I suppose," she said grudgingly, not wanting to inflate Clarke's ego anymore because the blonde was doing a thorough job of that herself and she gave her a small smile to show that she was joking.  

"You are too kind," she responded. "Really, that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me." Clarke pressed a hand to her chest. "I'm touched. Really. Your words warm me."

Lexa rolled her eyes and stood. "I'm leaving." Her plate clean, she was done with breakfast. "Enjoy your day, Clarke."

"You've made my day by gracing me with your company," Clarke said. "You've delighted me with the charm of your wit," she said, words following her out and Lexa shook her head, blushing very slightly because the other counsellors were looking up and smiling at the two of them, kindly she knew but still, she was used to coming and going in relative silence and Clarke's attention was new. 

But not unwelcome. No.

She skirted past a group of children, up unusually early. "Good morning," she said curtly. 

"Morning, Miss Lexa," they chimed. They looked innocent, smiling happily at her so early on a Saturday morning. Too innocent, entirely, but she didn't notice and she more or less ran back to her cabin. They conferred. "If we get everyone to fill up all the seats," they agreed, "then they will have to sit together."

"They'll notice," one of the girls pointed out. "If they always end up sitting next to each other. They'll notice that."

"But what are they going to say? Everyone is plotting and sitting strategically so we end up next to each other?" A boy shook his head, scoffing. "They're just going to put it down as a coincidence."

"And probably be a bit awkward about it."

"And they'll blush and laugh and start talking and it'll be really sweet." They all looked at that member, a sweet girl, and she stamped her foot. "What? Romance is nice! That  _is_ why we're doing this after all."

"True" "that's true" they agreed quietly. "And also because we're bored."

"That too" "yeah, that too."

"So, we start implementing the plan tomorrow morning?"

Their ring leader, a young boy with the remnants of a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, shook his head. "No. Let them have their weekend. On Monday," he said. "Then we begin."


	6. You've Got A Big Mouth, Bellamy Blake

She had been waiting outside the mess hall for near on ten minutes, stomach growling, and the reasons clearly outweighed the ones to stay outside. And yet, there she was. Outside. Waiting. Hungry. 

Pros of going in: lunch. Discussing end of camp dinner with Jasper. Seeing Clarke.

Cons of going in: seeing Clarke with Bellamy Blake. 

She could hear them in there.  _Laughing_. 

She wasn't sure why it bothered her so much but she guessed it was because she was hungry and nothing made complete sense when she was hungry. Also, the feeling in the pit of her stomach when she heard Clarke laughing - and the ensuing feeling when she remembered that she was laughing with him - was probably indigestion. From breakfast. So hunger, indigestion. It could also have been because for a moment there she had let herself think she was special, that Clarke seeking her out at breakfast had been because she had wanted to spend time with her. But now she was sure it was because Clarke was merely a genuinely kind and friendly person to everyone and had thought that Lexa had looked lonely. 

Incredible. Lexa was annoyed because Clarke was  _kind_. That was a new kind of low, even for her. She rubbed at her forehead and shook her head sharply. What kind of person was she that she was annoyed because someone took the time to try and be nice to her?

"You suck at this, Bell," she heard Clarke laughing and she could imagine the way Clarke would be smiling, head tilted a little to the side, eyes soft and fond. She could imagine her when she laughed, head tilted backwards and the way her hair fell down her shoulders and the -

This was getting out of hand. She should leave.

"Howdy, stranger." Jasper sidled up near her, face filling the small window to her left. "Nice day."

"Yes. It is."

"Probably why you're out there," he gestured to her. "Instead of in here," he continued happily. "With all my wonderful food."

"Sure."

"Almost definitely," he said to himself. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with anyone in there pelting popcorn into each other's faces."

"No."

"Right, right. Because if that were the reason, it would mean something like you were interested in what they were doing or who was doing it."

"Definitely not."

"Of course not. But to stop me from saying something to any of the involved parties, perhaps you would do something for me?" He lifted a small cardboard container up to below his chin and his goofy smile slid into place as he batted his eyelashes. "I also packed your lunch for you. It's your favourite. And also," his face lighting up concerning the topic of food, "I added some chocolate coated raspberries because I know how much you love them." She would kill for them. Jasper was probably the only one who knew that. He wriggled the container invitingly, and lifted his eyebrows. When her expression didn't shift, he waggled his eyebrows and wiggled the container again. 

"You know that you're the reason Lincoln banned bribery between counsellors, right?"

Jasper gasped. "I am  _offended_. This is not  _bribery_." He tried his best to look heartbroken. "This is me doing a favour to you and you maybe - and by maybe I mean definitely - doing a favour for me so I don't do something like tell a certain beautiful blonde that you were out here looking all nervous about the prospect of seeing her again."

"Jasper, I swear to god-"

"One little thing," he said. He looked from side to side. "And what Lincoln doesn't know won't hurt him." Jasper pushed the box towards her. "You can take this and go or you can come in here and have to see them having a food fight and being  _nice_ and  _laughing_ together and being happy people."

Lexa snatched the box. "What do you want?"

" _Chilli's_ ," Jasper said, abruptly dark.

"Chilli's? Why?"

"You don't need to bother yourself with the why or what for." Lexa didn't like the way he rubbed his hands together gleefully but whatever. She shrugged. "Excellent. Monty has some in the greenhouse. Tell him I sent you for the good stuff and he'll get you what I need." Lexa backed away slowly. Turned on her heel and left. 

Jasper clapped happily. His plan was working out perfectly. Now he just had to make sure that Clarke knew Lexa had been hanging around all jealous outside because boy that girl was oblivious and he wouldn't win his bet with Monty if she continued like that. And he felt bad that he had made Lexa think they were being anything other than stupid together, Clarke and Bellamy. He peeked out the kitchen at the two of them and rolled his eyes, searching for his dust bin and brush. 

Bellamy was a disaster when it came to eye-mouth coordination. 

"Oh my god, Bell, must stay still. If you don't get this one then it's my turn again." Clarke narrowed her eyes carefully and Bellamy nodded, opening up wide. She tossed a piece of popcorn his way in a perfect arc, climbing high and falling falling directly into his mouth only - "What the  _hell_ , Bellamy? That was perfect, it was going, right in the centre,  _ugh_. Why the hell did you move your enormous mouth?"

"Look, Miss Priss, just because you have some other worldly ability to catch food in your mouth doesn't mean that you can mock us plebs, okay? We earthbound with our paltry mortal skills have feelings too." He pouted, crossed his arms, and did his best not to let his hurt crack when Clarke started to laugh. And laugh. 

"You just can't admit that you suck at something, can you?"

"He really can't." Octavia draped herself over her brother's shoulders. "Hit me." She caught the popcorn Clarke threw her way between her teeth and smiled winningly around it. Bellamy slouched away, grumbling. "Oops. Did I twist the knife of his incompetence deeper?"

"Little bit." Clarke nodded. "Yep."

"Oh well." Octavia shrugged, sat on the table. She scooped a handful out of Clarke's bowl and fed herself piece by piece. "This is a really terrible lunch, you know."

"Taste's good though."

"Gross. Oh, is that why Lexa was running away from here as fast as she could? Because of your terrible lunch choices?"

"Ah, no. I just teased her too much at breakfast. You were here, remember?"

"Breakfast?" Octavia frowned. "No, I mean like ten minutes ago."

"No." Clarke joined her friend in frowning. "She didn't come in. I would have seen her." The 'because I always notice her when she's around, my eyes are drawn to her, she's amazing' remained silent but played across Clarke's face in a shy, wistful, enamoured way that had Octavia rolling her eyes even as she smiled because her friend was so disgusting in her cute adoration of Lexa. 

"Huh. Weird." Octavia shrugged. "Maybe she saw you and Bellamy being all chummy and was jealous."

"No," Clarke denied, rolling her eyes. "She wouldn't be."

"Uh, yes she would be."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not."

"She's not," Jasper chimed in. "That's pretty much exactly what happened. Octavia's right. Up top!" Octavia jumped up to give him a high five and dropped down again. He shook the sting of the slap out of his hand and smiled at Clarke. "I mean, I may have blown it a little out of proportion because I needed Lexa to, umm," he looked sideways at Octavia, "well that doesn't matter and it definitely didn't involve blackmail or bribery. Anyway, yeah, totally jealous. In other news, here, you lot are disgusting and I hate you," he said cheerily, handing them the dust bin and brush and a broom. "Clean up your mess before the kids come in and think they're allowed to throw food too."

Clarke snagged Octavia by the sleeve because she could sneak away. "Oh no. You're not going anywhere. You're helping me with this first."

"Rude." Octavia grumbled. "Stupid brother. Stupid friend making me clean up his stupid mess." She brushed half-heartedly at the table and Clarke just had to grin because Jasper was watching them with eagle eyes and pointing out the loose kernels everywhere from three tables away (she was impressed by her own pelting strength, for them to be so far away.)

They were let out twenty minutes later, and only because Jasper was exasperated with how slow they were. Octavia had collapsed onto one of the tables and refused to work anymore, and Clarke had alternated cleaning with singing and dancing. 

He chased them out with a broom.

* * *

 She had been thinking on what Jasper had said. Lexa? Jealous? It was possible that she was hurt because Clarke didn't invite her to have lunch with her but she should know that Clarke looked for her and had only relented when she found out that Lexa was working with the horses and she probably wouldn't make it to the mess in time for lunch, and she should also know that Clarke thought maybe she had pushed too hard at breakfast and had embarrassed her because Lexa _had_ left awfully quickly and...oh who was she kidding? Jasper and Octavia were just being enormous jerks. Lexa probably hadn't even been there. 

Clarke's thoughts were washed out of her head with a splash of cold water. She stood stock still, surprised, then shook the water away and out of her eyes. She looked down at the tiny menace who was holding another water balloon in his hand and saw his wicked grin. 

"Oh it is  _on_ ," she growled and scooped him up off his feet, ignoring the balloon he brought crashing down on her head, drenching her hair. She placed him in the centre of a few kids she knew well - Murphy, Monroe, Wells, a few others - and she put her hands on her hips. "You're mine now," she told them and they shrugged and nodded. "Good. Get him." War cries and water balloons were raised. She held out her hand to halt them before they could pelt him with the balloons. "Wait." They did. "If you apologise," she said to the tiny terror, "and accept me as your leader, I will help you defeat the other team."

He scowled up at her, fearsome in his fury. "I'm a groundling," he said, gnashing his teeth and beating his chest. "We make no deals with your kind."

"I understand." She held out her hand and Murphy handed her a balloon. "In that case, take a weapon and go back to your team." Her kids turned to her, frowning, no doubt questioning her judgement. Clarke was smiling. "Tell them we're ready. Tell them we're coming for them."

"We won't surrender," he said, sprinting off to the small copse of trees that no doubt served as the groundling base.

Clarke crossed her rams. Frowned at Murphy. "Okay. What have you dragged me into?"

"Camp wide water fight," he said quickly. His hand moved to salute her but he changed it to drag through his hair, pretending to be cool instead of terribly adoring. 

"Are you sure we're allowed to do this?"

"No. But  _technically_ we aren't breaking any of the camp rules so how bad could it really be?"

Very bad. If it ended badly. But Clarke knew that it could also be a  _lot_ of fun so she was inclined to go with it and besides, they were already absorbed by the idea. They would just turn against her if she tried to put an end to it. So she crouched with them and looked at each of them very seriously. "What's the status?"

"There aren't many of us. A lot of the campers are scattered across camp in small groups."

"Vulnerable," Clarke murmured. "We can get them. Promise protection, weapons." She nodded. "Okay. Do we have a name?"

"Yeah. Sky Crew. And, I mean, if you want...you can be the Sky Captain," Monroe told her, avoiding eye contact and digger the tip of her shoe into the ground. Clarke took in the fact that she was their leader  _and_ that the kids were adorable when they were shy. She nodded. 

"Right. Sky Crew. Come on then." She led them through the camp - pointed at stray children and waving them over, recruiting them into the sky crew. They were happy to wait, rather to 'defend' her cabin as she ran in to change, scooping her hair up into a ponytail and pulling on her hiking boots and that badass raincoat Octavia had given her that looked more like a riding jacket than a raincoat and always made her feel like she could scare people into obeying her. Nice. After trying not to grin at the kids awed looks - was Murphy  _bowing_? - she led her small band of warriors, growing when groups of two or three spied and friend in her group and ran to join them, into the art room. She found water guns she had confiscated early in the week and quickly constructed a holster from a strip of cardboard and some tape. She slipped them into her belt and nodded. 

"I'm the boss. I get the guns." They all nodded (still awed). "Now. I think we need a little....yeah. That'll do." Clarke grabbed a pot of blue skin-friendly paint and dipped her finger into it, dragging it across her cheeks as war paint. "Anyone else?"

Correction: everyone else. They all wanted to look cool and as more of the kids were swept into the fight, nearly half came to her side. As it became more dire, they decided they needed to up their game. Murphy was the one with the ideas. 

"Lincoln has a bunch of cardboard boxes outside his office," he told her. "What if we ask him for them? We can make shield."

"And there are a ton of buckets left over from the Easter camp," Monroe piped up. "If we fill our balloons, we can carry them in there and then we won't have to stay by a tap all the time to fill them up."

"Excellent. Murphy - go. Take a couple of kids with you and come back as fast as you can with as many boxes as you can. Monroe, you and I will get started on filling the balloons." They split and soon enough, her blue faced crew were ready for battle, shields in one hand and buckets tied to a sash around their necks. "Are we ready to take this camp?" she asked them, low and serious. 

They mumbled their answers, nodding. 

"Are we ready to  _fight_ for it?" she asked them. 

Murphy was the first one to scream. "Camp Jaha is  _ours_ ," he yelled, fist punching the air, and the rest soon followed. 

"Stick together," she commanded. "Teams of five. Overpower their small teams and return to the base to refill your buckets. Two teams go at once, no more. Understood?" They nodded. "Go. I'll hold the base."

Fifteen minutes passed before they started getting antsy. Shifting in place. Teams had gone out and come back without seeing any battle. Clarke knew there was a storm brewing out there and the groundlings were getting help from somewhere. 

"Fall out," she said, and they exited the art room, armed, shields at the ready. "Make your way to the mess hall. If we can capture the food, then we've got them where we want them." They began their slow march. But no attacks came and all was silent and Clarke felt more and more certain that they were walking into certain doom. "It's quiet," she said to them. "Too quiet. Any sight of them, Murphy?"

"No, Captain. Reports of sightings in the west," he pointed in a direction that was  _not_ west but she let it slide. "But no fights."

"THEY'RE HERE," a voice yelled from the front of the pack. Clarke jumped to attention and pulled her guns. Her kids were holding their own against the sneak attack - gleefully, in the heat of war, throwing balloons and letting the enemies projectiles fall harmless against their shields (slowly growing soggy) and taking as good as they gave, laughing. 

Clarke was looking for a reason for the tactic even as she fought back. Ten year olds didn't think of hiding in the dark spaces between cabins and circling the enemy. That was something adults thought of. Something... Clarke frowned. Ducked low underneath her shield and crawled back, around and behind the buildings to her left, where most of the children were. 

There, she found her.

Lexa.

Dressed all in black, hiking boots and jacket similar to her own actually, a black hand print messy against her cheek and a wheelbarrow of water balloons behind her. 

"Commander," Indra said by Lexa's side, tugging on her sleeve. "An attack!" She pointed over to Clarke, who saw that she was flanked by her own warriors. Murphy, Monroe, Wells. Atom, Charlotte. They faced off against Lexa's warriors but didn't move, waiting for Clarke's word. 

"So. You found me."

"I never suspected you and I would be enemies, Lexa," Clarke said, voice grave. She could see and hear the other children making their way to join them - Sky Crew versus the Groundlings, and she wanted to make this a truly epic showdown. It was the artist in her, or maybe the child. She appreciated a performance. And with the way Lexa slowly stood from her crouch and accepted a balloon when it was passed to her, she was willing to play along. 

"I am sorry, Clarke. You threatened my people." 

"They shouldn't have attacked me." Clarke took a few steps forward until she and Lexa were face to face, neither giving any ground. Lexa could smash the balloon against her, but Clarke had her guns in her hands. An impasse. 

Murphy and Monroe, and a few of their current foes, exchanged heavy looks. This was amazing. This was better than anything they had planned. 

"You've started a war, Clarke. A war you cannot win." Lexa was beautiful with a knife sharp smile, black streaked paint, and calm eyes. "Are you ready to lay down your weapons? Admit defeat? You will be treated with respect." (Clarke wanted to draw her in her fierceness, her utter confidence. It was hot.)

"The Sky Crew will  _never_ fall to the likes of you, Commander." Clarke took a step back, raised her gun halfway. "We will fight to the end."

The grin those words prompted was wild and Clarke's matched it. The whole thing was over the top to a ridiculous degree, three quarters posturing, one quarter water fight, but she felt her heart pumping faster anyway. She was having fun. She was having  _fun_ and Lexa was too, she could see it, and the children were ready and she saw no reason why they shouldn't have at it now. 

She threw her head back and laughed, and her Sky Crew whooped loudly and the battle began. 

Lexa lunged. Threw her balloon. 

Clarke fired her gun.

Neither hit.

All around them, the children clashed, yelling and throwing their own missiles. 

Clarke shot at Lexa, who ducked and spun and relieved Indra (her very own shadow) of two more balloons and two again and two again. It was impressive, the way neither Clarke nor Lexa hit one another and their fight was the centre of them all, the yells and fighting circling them, encompassing them.

Clarke knew she was going to lose. Lexa was strong and fast and wickedly accurate. 

The Sky Crew gasped when Lexa hit Clarke for the first time, balloon wrecking itself against her shoulder. Clarke staggered back, clutching at her 'wound'. She doubled her attack until her guns ran out of water and then she dove for the wheel barrow to load up on balloons herself, holding them in the crook of her arm and throwing with the other. She was still going to lose. A lucky shot hit Lexa's foot and she obediently hissed, reacted, slowing down for a minute. It was all Clarke needed. 

She had a plan. 

The whole group fell still and silent (drenched and almost out of ammo anyway) when the second balloon burst against Clarke's stomach. She fell back onto the grass, scrambling away as Lexa advanced. She was pressed against the wall of the maintenance shack and Lexa took one steady step after another until she was standing over Clarke.

Indra handed Lexa a balloon. 

"Clarke of the Sky Crew," she said with heavy finality. "Do you have any last words?"

All eyes on her, Clarke looked up slowly. She lifted her chin and Lexa hid a smile because of course, even in defeat Clarke would not be cowed. The blonde licked her lips. "Yeah," she said. "Nice try."

Lexa frowned - then spluttered when Clarke turned on the hose she had allowed herself to be pushed towards, behind her attached to the shack, and aimed it full power at Lexa's chest. She sprayed the groundlings too, and yelled out the Sky Crew victory when Lexa obligingly fell to her knees. 

She was relieved to find that all the kids were revelling in the water fight and breaking the last of the balloons over each others heads, instead of being upset they had lost or too domineering about their victory. 

"Good fight," Lexa said quietly. "But next time, my Groundlings will kick your butt."

"I'd like to see you try," Clarke challenged, offering her hand to help Lexa to her feet. She tried not to pay any mind to the shivers that shot through her when Lexa's hand touched hers, the slide of skin against skin, and just gripped a little harder and pulled. Lexa stumbled a little at the strength Clarke used and steadied herself with a hand on Clarke's shoulder. When Clarke bit her lip, Lexa's eyes dipped low to catch the move and they both took a quick step back. "The, um," Clarke blushed and turned away. "The kids are shivering," she noted. "We should get them all to change."

"Yes. Of course."

"Do you," she pointed to the groundlings. "Your group? And I'll do mine?"

"I don't see why they shouldn't work together after the fight," Lexa shrugged. "We don't want them coming up with a rivalry."

"Right, no." Clarke bit her lip again. Lifted her shoulders in a self-conscious shrug when she hesitantly suggested, "Well maybe we should look after them together. You know, to know that the Sky Crew and the Groundlings can be teammates too?"

"I..." Lexa could feel her cheeks heating but she lifted her chin and nodded sharply and moved away to gather the first of the kids. "Time to get changed," Clarke could hear her saying. "Let's go." Clarke started to do the same after a moment, smiling. 

"Quick march!" she said to them. "Let's go. Fearsome warriors, dinner time in twenty minutes. I want to see you all dry and dressed in ten!" She led the way, pausing in front of each cabin to let them in, yelling happily with one another, and she could see Lexa at the other end of the pack, nudging wayward kids back into line and when they reached the end of the line, the last kids sprinting into their room, she hooked a hand around the back of her own neck and smiled nervously at the girl. "Thanks," she said. "I really appreciate your help." Lexa lifted her eyebrows. "I've never worked with kids before, you know? So I'm kind of making it up as I go along and it's probably not the best way to do things and it's, yeah, it's good to have you here because the kids respect you a whole bunch and I know that if I do something wrong you'll probably step in and make sure they don't hurt themselves," she said with a faint laugh. But seriously. She hoped they didn't get hurt because of something she did. 

"Clarke," Lexa said, and her eyebrows were still lifted and Clarke read it as surprise. "You are doing very well." She shook her head because of course Clarke is effortlessly good at these things, and of course she is good and modest and sweet and concerned that she is  _not_ good at it. Lexa hated the way her stomach was flipping in circles. She pressed a hand subtly against her stomach, trying to quell it. "They are very fond of you. And it was fun. For them," she clarified. "It was fun for them."

"Right. You didn't have any fun at all."

Lexa flattened her lips. She would not smile.

"You didn't even have the tiniest bit of fun. Not at all." Clarke wandered closer. She was only a few inches away and her smile was soft and encouraging and Lexa thought perhaps she was doing this on purpose, this sweet vulnerable act. She wanted Lexa to surrender.  _  
_

Lexa added a frown, features stern. 

"Not at all?" Clarke asked, tilting her head, trying to drag the confession out of her with her sweetness and Lexa felt herself crumbling, her lips lifting and a small laugh trying to bubble out of her because Clarke's eyes were so wide and so blue and so soft and so inviting and of course she had fun, of course Clarke was clever and wonderful to have done this with the kids, and she opened her mouth and-

"Clarke, you did so great with all the kids," Bellamy congratulated her, jogging up to join them. The two girls rocketed away from one another, Lexa coughing lightly and looking up to the darkening sky, Clarke licking her lips and turning to face the cabins. "I mean, no big surprise, your dad has always been grea-" He hesitated, words clinking to a stop behind clamped shut teeth. Lexa turned back to face them and was surprised to see Bellamy's face white and nervous and strained, and Clarke's smile fixed in place. What followed was a garbled mess but Clarke's smile never shifted - none of her pleasant expression did - and Lexa frowned. 

"Clarke," she interrupted before Bellamy could stutter out more than the first letter of Clarke's name. "Your shirt is still wet. You should change before dinner." She gestured to Bellamy. "Blake and I can round up the kids." He nodded far too quickly for Lexa to be comfortable - something was clearly wrong but it wasn't for Lexa to comment on, and it wasn't for Lexa to question. 

"Yeah. The squirts are no trouble. We've got them."

Clarke's expression lifted a little and she looked so relieved, so completely relieved just for a moment, that Lexa ached for her somewhere deep in her chest and it was hard for her to breathe for a moment. And when Clarke reached forward and squeezed Lexa's hand in a thank you without speaking, the ache doubled and lessened all at the same time. Clarke bounded toward her own cabin. Lexa turned on Bellamy and frowned, heavy. 

"What?" he asked.

"You upset her."

"It was an accident. Besides, since when do you care if anyone is upset?"

Lexa didn't have an answer to that. Well, she had an answer. But it was ridiculous. It couldn't have been the second she saw Clarke struggling with her seatbelt when she arrived in Octavia's incongruent truck, when she flopped out of the car, relieved to be free from the strangling belt. It couldn't have been so early, when Clarke was struggling with her bags as she carried them to her cabin and Lexa had felt her hands twitch and her legs start to carry her over, mouth already moving in the words that would offer to help. It couldn't have been when Monty had shifted to the side and Clarke was smiling at her, mouthing her name ' _Lexa_ ' and shining. It was all of them and they had felt like so many sucker punches to the stomach and Lexa knew it was ridiculous so she didn't say any of them.  _  
_

She didn't care. 

"Shut up," she said, and left the kids for Bellamy. 


	7. Let The Games Begin

The only downside to being consistently withdrawn and difficult to talk to is that when Lexa actually wanted to talk to someone, perhaps Clarke for instance, and to comfort them or tell them that if she  _wanted_ to they could talk to Lexa, she was well aware that it would most likely come across as insincere. 

Which is why, instead of simply telling Clarke that she didn't have to talk about what had happened outside with Bellamy, that she didn't have to tell her why it was that she had been doing her best to keep her smile firmly locked in place  - though, if she wanted to, she  _could_ of course tell Lexa these things - Lexa dropped her plate wordlessly onto the space next to Clarke's plate and nodded when the blonde looked up at her. She even tried a smile but it was blown away when Clarke gave her the brightest smile Lexa had ever seen and murmured a shy "hello" before she turned back to Raven. 

Lexa tried not to focus on the way that their thighs touched lightly, and she kept her left arm still where it was on the table because Clarke's arm was there and two points of contact would perhaps be too much.

She didn't move away, however, when Clarke gestured and let her hand return to the table that much closer to Lexa's arm that their elbows touched. 

Raven didn't notice - curious eyes from across the hall  _did_ and somehow none of the counsellors realised that some intrusive children had palmed binoculars to better watch their favourite non-couple - and loudly and excitedly discussed a new engine she'd had delivered. 

"Are you sure that you're allowed to have stuff like that here at camp?" Clarke asked. "I mean, they're not in a car so are they locked away at least? Kids kinda have a tendency to," Clarke pursed her lips, shrugged. Filled her mouth with pasta so that she wouldn't say something she couldn't take back about children's pursuits of danger. 

"Ruin  _everything_ ," Raven filled in the end of Clarke's sentence. "I know. But yeah, you haven't been to the maintenance shed have you? I have a couple of ingenious lines of defence."

"You have a sign that says any children found within ten feet of your shed will be press ganged into doing your chores," Lexa said quietly, not looking up from her plate. Raven could still just make out the arch of unimpressed eyebrows. _  
_

"Like I said, ingenious."

"Well you know I'm not sure that is super safe and since kids-"

"-ruin everything-"

"I was actually going to say touch things without thinking and tend to get themselves into strife, but okay, sure. Since kids are ruiners, maybe you should put up some more safeguards?"

"I know that you two didn't say anything negative about the campers," Lincoln said with a stern look as he walked past their group. "Kids are wonderful. Remember?"

"Sir yes sir." The two of them - atrocious, Lincoln thought, atrocious terrible people who should never look after children,  _honestly,_ even if they were clever and lovely and well perhaps they weren't so bad with children but really they shouldn't talk like that about them - saluted him with equally cheery smiles and he just sighed and continued on with his own dinner plate to sit with Octavia. Octavia, who was gently and lovingly placing shreds of grated cheese in her brothers chair. (Bellamy used dinner as a time to continue mentally kicking himself, head firmly planted on the table so he wouldn't have to look at Clarke and remember how much of an idiot he had been. He didn't notice as the pile of cheese grew to immense proportions, and wouldn't notice until the cheese fell off when he sat up and Jasper yelled at him to clean up his mess.)

"You were saying something," Raven prompted Clarke.

"Right. Do you at least have locks?"

"Nah. Barbed wire around the whole shed."

Clarke blinked. "I think...that might be more dangerous than an engine."

"Yeah. But the Doctor Abby's cabin is right next to the shed so if any kiddies are crying it will alert her." 

Clarke sat in mute surprise until Lexa sighed and nudged her, murmured, "she's joking" before Lexa returned to her dinner. Raven grinned at the two of them. 

"You're joking?"

"Do you really think that Mr Safe would let me work on anything if I didn't have twelve hundred precautions?" Raven pointed out. "I'm just messing with you. New kid and all. Speaking of," Raven leant in, lowered her voice. (Lexa tried to control her rapid heart beat when Clarke did the same, her leg pressing a little harder against Lexa's at the movement.) "Say, Clarke, have you been pranked at all since you got here?" Raven asked Clarke quietly. 

"No. Should I have been?"

"Oh, no, it's just a question." Raven shrugged, smile too innocent, too sweet. 

Lincoln was immediately on alert. "No pranks!" he whispered harshly down the table, looking around to see that none of the kids had heard him and thought, for some reason, that the mention of pranks somehow made them acceptable. "No!"

"Relax," she told him, all too smug and relaxed herself, leaning her chin on her hand. "Would I ever break your rules, Lincoln?"

"Yes."

"You wound me."

"If you literally wound someone, Raven, so help me..."

" _Relax_ ," Raven said again. "I am impeccable and well behaved."

"You're impenitent and terribly behaved," he grumbled, but allowed Octavia to calm him down with a kiss on the cheek and fell back into their own conversation. 

"He always says the sweetest things," Raven sighed, grinning over at Clarke who just had to grin back even though she had the uneasy feeling that she was going to be pranked soon and probably relentlessly, because she liked Raven. She liked everyone she had met. She was having  _fun_ and she refused to let herself get down. 

"Lexa, what are you still doing here?" a mostly unfamiliar face asked - Finn, Clarke recalled his name after a moment. He didn't turn up for every meal and she hadn't had the chance to talk with him yet, but he nodded kindly to her when he dropped into place next to Raven, taking a moment to kiss her cheek. "Aren't you normally out of here after your bare minimum of social time?" he laughed. 

"Yes." Lexa scraped the last of her dinner from her plate and stood. "Excuse me."

Clarke wanted to stop her but - should she? She couldn't ask Lexa to stop doing what she always did, she definitely wouldn't do it in front of people who had known Lexa for longer than she had, and it would be weird of her if she just asked Lexa to stay. Wouldn't it? So she did her best to mask her disappointment and gave Lexa a small smile. 

"Oh - Lexa!" Lincoln shook his head. "Actually, would you mind staying after dinner? I have something I want to talk to everyone about while the kids do whatever it is they do before dessert. Is that alright?"

Lexa gave nothing away with her curt nod. Dropped back into place next to Clarke like it was nothing.

She said nothing about Clarke's beaming smile. Thought a lot about how she guessed Clarke would be very, very bad at poker. Ignored the way she felt like matching that smile because it was a very pleasant feeling indeed to know that someone wanted you to stay with them. 

Lexa didn't join in often on their conversation - Clarke questioned Finn about his job and listened intently as he discussed tracking and how important it was to learn how to look after yourself in the wilderness - and she didn't notice when she stopped looking down at her clear plate and instead just looked sideways at Clarke, leaning against her hand. Raven did her best not to laugh at the utterly absorbed expression from their normally stoic counsellor. Smitten, she might have called it if it were anyone other than Lexa. 

Actually. Lexa would have a conniption if she heard Raven call her smitten. She would  _absolutely_ be calling Lexa smitten - to her face - soon. Finn would have to be hidden nearby with a camera to catch Lexa's reaction... Raven drifted off into her thoughts to consider the moment with delight. 

As soon as the kids had been shooed out the door - "dessert in half an hour! No destroying things  _please_ " - Lincoln stood at the end of the counsellors table and smiled broadly at them. "I think we can all agree that today's water fight was awesome. So special thanks go to Clarke and Lexa for keeping the kids so thoroughly entertained today." Half-hearted cheers rose around the table, followed by a more genuine round of laughter when Clarke shot right up out of her seat, smiling widely, and gave each of them a flourishing bow. 

"Thank you, thank you, so kind. No really, it was a pleasure, please," she said as she did and Lexa rolled her eyes, a small affectionate smile her only contribution. 

"Alright, Clarke, thank you." Lincoln waved her back down, not unkindly but because he was jittering with his own excitement. "It went _so_ well," he continued, "that I think we should keep doing it."

"That's a lot of water, Lincoln."

"Like, a lot of water."

"California is in drought, Australia is basically always in a drought I'm pretty sure it's ninety per cent desert. " Finn pointed out. " _Bostwana_ ," he continued. "The Kalahari covers a lot of Botswana. Then there's the Oltenian Sahara, plus, you know, the Sahara which covers so much of northern African continent. And wow I mean, come on, the Empty Quarter in Saudi Arabia and-"

"You're just naming deserts now," Bellamy complained, throwing up his hands. "Deserts are pretty common features in geography. Not everywhere can be a forest, _Finn_ , so that you can get your exploring on and have fun. They are actually caused by factors that have to do with water not getting there, not water necessarily being taken _out_ of them."

"I just mean that there are places that could do with a little water,  _Bellamy_ , and we're wasting it."

"This really isn't the discussion I wanted-" Lincoln started, but they had got into the swing of the discussion and Octavia just patted his leg soothingly when he sat back down and waited for their conversation to peter out. 

"I felt kind of bad at the start," Clarke mentioned. "But the kids were having so much fun that I thought, you know, one water fight wasn't so bad."

"Right, totally," Bellamy nodded. Glared at Finn a little, who rolled his eyes, and then continued talking with Clarke. "But when you think about the impact that a camp like this can have on the environment when we use too much water-"

"Oh, yeah, hi, my turn. I actually have been thinking about that," Raven said. "We have the opportunity to put in a lot of water tanks. This place gets a serious drenching in the wet season and we should definitely capitalize on that."

"Plus, we could teach the kids about water conservation and responsibility." Octavia winced when Lincoln widened his eyes at her, silently begging her not to encourage them. "Sorry, L. Guys! Lincoln wasn't done."

"Oh, sorry boss."

"You should have stopped us if you weren't done, boss."

"Yeah, boss."

Lincoln bit his tongue and waited for yet more of their interruptions to be over and done with. Octavia patted his leg again. He stood when they were done and spread his hands open, allowing himself to become excited again at his idea because all of them were watching him closely and seemed to be listening with rapt attention. "I'm not talking about the water fight. It was great, the kids had fun on a hot day. What I'm talking about is the way they easily divided themselves into teams. Sky Crew," he pointed at Clarke, who waved back cheerily, "and Grounders," he moved slightly to gesture at Lexa, who just blinked. "I think that we can make this into something big. What if we start a competition between the two teams? We already have our Activity Day set up for the end of camp but we can make it bigger. Have smaller tournaments on the weekend and, since they more or less divided themselves into their cabins groups," Lincoln was almost bouncing on his toes, his wide enormous, "we can give them points on everything from good behaviour to clean cabins! They don't like making their beds and sweeping the floor - but if we tell them they could win a prize by doing it, I'm pretty sure those cabins will be like new." 

The counsellors were quiet for a moment. Then, 

"That's actually a really good idea," Bellamy said quietly. 

"Yeah." 

Raven raised her hand, waiting for Lincoln to nod at her. "They might also start pranking the other cabins to make them messy," she pointed out.

"True. But how about we  _not_ mention that in front of them or prank our colleagues so they don't get the idea, okay? And you are not allowed to help them prank their friends. You know that, don't you?" Raven just smiled sweetly at Lincoln. "Okay well, everyone please keep an eye on Raven and also, I think that if we work together we can really make this great. I'm hoping - if you all agree - we tell the kids before dessert what the plan is and see what they have to say about it. If they hate it, Jasper's dessert will placate them. And if they like it, we can start straight away. Make a score board to hang in here, if that's okay Jasper?" Jasper looked up from his notebook, looking mildly nervous and shoving the notebook deep into his coat pocket, and Monty had to murmur into his ear what they had been discussing.

"Oh yeah, totally. That sounds awesome!"

"Great." Lincoln's gaze lingered on Jasper for a moment longer. "Raven, Monty, do you think you two could work on that?"

"For sure, I've got some stuff. Monty, wanna help me make it shine?" She waggled her eyebrows and Monty gave her an excited smile. 

"I can rig up some sound effects pretty easily, I know I have some lights tucked away somewhere we can make the number counters out of." He nodded. "Definitely."

"That sounds great. Really great." Lincoln clapped his hands. "Team captains are probably going to be Clarke and Lexa, judging from what happened today, but we'll let the kids decide. I think that if we stick to four main competitions - obstacle course, capture the flag, the big race, and the scavenger hunt - we should be able to pick a winner from those."

"What if they both win two?"

"Well, Clarke's team has already won the water fight-" Clarke stood again, bowed to cheers, "and we also have activity day and I think that they should compete for a point for each of the rounds. How does that sound?"

"It actually kinda sounds super awesome," Octavia said. Looking around the table, each of the counsellors nodded their agreement and she beamed up at her boyfriend. They looked around quickly before he bent down to kiss her and -

"MISTER LINCOLN IS KISSING OCTAVIA!" Murphy shouted from the door, to the sound of answering cheers from the kids and the impending sound of small, stampeding feet. 

"Kids," Raven said knowingly, raising her eyebrows at Lincoln. "Ruiners."

He looked like he might, barely, agree as he sighed and pulled away from Octavia.

* * *

 "Does this mean that we can fight each other?"

"No, we are having a competition-"

"Like a _fight_ though, right?" Monroe stood on the bench, hands on hips. (She was small and liked to be tall. Octavia understood.) "Do we get swords?"

"No, well, you don't get swords. You-"

Lexa cleared her throat. Lincoln looked relieved when she stood and he ceded the floor to her. "Listen up, squirts."

They listened up. Every face turned to her expectantly.

"Grounders are every warrior from Cabins A through F. Sky Crew," she said with the faintest hint of a sneer, and Clarke leapt to her feet and marched over.

"Sky Crew," she said loudly, and Bellamy covered his expressive mouth when it moved to twitch into an amused smile because it was one of the funniest things he had seen - each of the almost one hundred faces turning as a single unit to look at Clarke - then back at Lexa to see her reaction - then back to Clarke. All with bated breath, all with excited faces. "Sky Crew are all the soldiers from Cabins G through L. The idea is very simple. We will compete in four more tournaments leading up to Activity Day."

"These tournaments will be," Lexa began, mind racing to come up with particularly interesting names for them. "The Gauntlet." Clarke bit on her tongue to stop a grin, loving Lexa's willingness to interest the children. "Zombie Run." Lincoln wrote that down - he would need to figure out a way to get some zombies but they would make it work. "Capture the Castle and," Lexa blanked on what she could call the scavenger hunt but decided that it fit well enough into the general idea they were aiming for so left it as is, "the Scavenger Hunt."

Clarke nodded her approval. "One major point will go to the winning team after each of the tournaments, as well as a number of small points. These small points are important - they will be given out for good behaviour. You can earn them for good sportsmanship, cleaning your cabin, helping each other out, and working as a team. We want to see you having fun, guys, and as much as the Sky Crew is going to smash the Grounders," Clarke said, unrepentant, grinning her challenge at Lexa, "we want this to be a fair fight. Okay?"

The mess hall was silent for a moment as the two team captains looked out onto the crowd. Then, from the back of the hall, Indra leapt on top of her seat and screamed. 

"YES! GROUNDERS! GROUNDERS," she yelled, the rest of her team soon joining her. 

Clarke honestly wasn't surprised when her kids followed soon after, jumping on top of the benches to bellow in response, "SKY CREW."

She was pretty sure she saw Murphy tear off his shirt. 

"This got a little out of hand," Lexa murmured into her ear and Clarke snorted, nodding. 

"A little." She shrugged. "That's good though, isn't it? That they're excited about it. It'll be fun."

"They'll be impossible to get to sleep."

"Nah. They'll tire themselves out, have some dessert, and fall asleep as they walk. The hardest part will be carrying them all into their rooms." 

The sight of one kid throwing himself off the table was the sign that they needed to put an end to the riot and Clarke looked to Octavia, who obligingly let out a shrill whistle, loud enough to make those closest to her wince, and those furthest away to look and listen. " _Oi_ ," she yelled. "That's enough. It's time to pick your captains."

"Clarke!" Murphy shouted. "Clarke, Sky Captain!"

"Commander Lexa," Indra shouted, and when more and more kids started taking up their chants, Octavia whistled again. 

"Really, guys, we just needed a suggestion. Enough with the rioting," she laughed. "We also need their second in commands. For the Grounders?" she looked to the left, where the Grounders had shifted, and they looked between themselves for a few short seconds before they turned to her as one and split beaming, impeaching smiles. "Me?" They nodded. "Well okay."

She disappeared into the swarm and reappeared somewhere towards the back of the hall.

Lincoln gave her up as lost.

"And for us?" Clarke asked her Sky Crew. 

Bellamy gave a start when a few of the boys pointed towards him after a brief scuffle and chat. "Me?"

"Yes sir," they said, even the little kids and the rest of the Sky Crew agreeing. "You'll be a great second."

He jumped up, saluted Clarke quickly before he slung his arm around her shoulders. He tried not to be offended when the kids cheered Clarke on when she peeled his arm away. 

* * *

"Do you think that is strange?" Lexa asked Clarke later, when they had calmed the kids down, convinced Murphy to put his shirt back on, and dessert had been served. 

"What?" Clarke glanced over at her, frowning very slightly. 

"The campers who cheered very loudly when you stepped away from Blake," Lexa said. "They stare at me."

"Oh, Lexa, they probably just like you." Clarke shrugged, returned to her bowl. "You've been a counsellor for a few years now, haven't you noticed that some kids have favourites?"

"Yes," she said slowly. She did not add that this was not the same. That they watched Clarke as well. It  _was_ strange, she was sure of it. 

"Well, I'll keep an eye out," Clarke promised, even if she did smile at her like it wasn't something to worry about. (The smile was very convincing. Lexa relaxed a little.) "Oh, wow, you've almost finished your tart already." 

Lexa glanced down at her plate - it was raspberry. She had barely tasted it, she thought with remorse, she had been thinking too heavily about the staring and whispering children and wondering what it was that was so interesting about her - and Clarke, because they watched and whispered about Clarke too. She sighed and tried her best to savour the last few mouthfuls. 

"Here." Clarke scooped a half of her tart and carefully transferred it to Lexa's plate, ignoring the small sound of disagreement. "Raspberry isn't my favourite," she said, covering her bowl so that Lexa couldn't give it back. "Just eat it, Lexa. You were giving it seduction eyes, I know you want it more than I do." 

Lexa damn near fell in love with Clarke in that moment - hyperbole, of course, she told herself because the sharing of tart wasn't something to fall in love over, nor could it happen so quickly of course. She shoved her bowl across the table, shifting slightly to face Clarke more fully, and exposing the ice cream side of her bowl. Clarke held out for only a few seconds before she accepted, scooping the proffered treat up and nodding her thanks to Lexa. 

Neither of them noticed the children - those same damn children Lexa had spotted - sharing identical grins across the hall. 


	8. New Teams and Sweet Dreams

"Go to bed, Murphy."

"We're gonna kick ass," he said, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Clarke nodded.

"Yes, we are. But the important thing is that we  _all_ have fun. The Grounders too."

"Yeah." He hugged his pillow and sighed, smiled. "This is gonna be the best summer ever."

"Alright." She couldn't help but smile and she moved from the side of his bed to the door. "Let's go to sleep, everyone."

"Goodnight, Miss Clarke."

"Goodnight, Murphy."

"Goodnight, Miss Clarke."

"Goodnight, Wells."

"Goodnight, Miss Clarke."

"Goodnight, Atom."

"Goodnight, Miss Clarke."

"Goodnight, Jones."

"Goodnight, Miss Clarke."

"Murphy, I already said goodnight to you. Now  _all_ of you - and yes I see you lot in the back there," she said to the boys huddled in one of the bunks, thinking themselves hidden by the wall. "Get in your beds. Come on. Move it." When they didn't shift - one of them pulling a blanket over his head apparently thinking the 'I can't see you, you can't see me' idea was valid - she rolled her eyes. "I'm going to count to three and if you aren't in your beds by then, you won't like what happens." That was enough for one of them. "Thank you, Diggs." The rest didn't move. "One." Derek was next. "Two. Thr-" she was almost done when Dex dove into his bed. "Alright. Lights out." Clarke flicked off the light. "Sleep well," she murmured, closing the door softly behind her. 

She was walking on the path back to the food hall when the doctor fell into step next to her. 

Abby, she reminded herself. 

"That took a while," the older woman said quietly. "Boys giving you any trouble?"

"Nah." Clarke pushed her hands into her pockets and ignored the chill in the air. Faint, but it was there. "They were just a little pumped still."

"It's going to be exciting isn't it?" Abby agreed, smiling widely at her. Then, "Here," she said, pulling a sweater from the large bag on her shoulder and pressing into Clarke's arms. "You look cold. I always carry around a spare one," she said when it looked like Clarke would argue. "Are you going back to the mess?"

"Yeah, I wanted to talk more about the point system with Lincoln."

"Lincoln?" Jasper popped up from behind the large bins behind his kitchen. "Where?"

"It's cool," Clarke told him. "You're safe."

"Oh phew. Let me know when he's on his way out, will you?"

"Sure. How?"

"Oh. Umm..." Jasper frowned thoughtfully. "How about, like, a bird call or something. Like," he cleared his throat. " _C_ _a-caw ca-CAW_ ," he demonstrated loudly. 

Clarke blinked at him.

Trying to keep a stoic face, Abby excused herself to walk inside. They caught, when the door opened, the distant sound of Lincoln asking "what was that? Was that Jasper? What the hell is he up to now?"

Clarke shrugged. "Sure, that works."

Jasper grinned. "Thanks Clarke! You're the best."

She wanted to know exactly what he was doing there, in the dark, behind the bins, with a walkie talkie in one hand, a bowl of...something in the other, and dressed in what looked like a hazmat suit.  

On second thought, maybe it was best that she didn't know.

Plausible deniability and all that.

"Okay. Stay safe," she suggested, a touch on the worried side, and he saluted her - cheerily, which was again worrisome - before returning to his work.  

Lincoln was wrapped around his slice of raspberry tart when she finally stepped into the dining hall. He scowled at Octavia, who was armed with a fork and an innocent smile, and tried to defend his dessert but to no avail.

Clarke hesitated. 

She could see Lexa, apparently dropping something off in the kitchen (perhaps even involved in whatever Jasper was up to, she wasn't sure but the way that Lexa checked to make sure Lincoln wasn't paying attention made her think  _maybe_ just maybe) and she waved a little. Lexa slowed as she walked by the table but Abby was talking and she continued on. 

She didn't want to disturb them. 

"You should sit with me for a while," Abby suggested. "They're probably going to flirt for a while and I was hoping you would help me with this, give me a suggestion or two maybe." She was unpacking her supplies - strips of cloth and thread Clarke recognised as coming from the art building - and settling at the next table. "How are you at sewing?"

"Not bad. Sutures are a little different but I'm sure I can figure it out."

"Oh, are you interested in medicine?" Abby asked her, perking up at the thought. 

"I was in pre-med for two years." Clarke pulled a few of the strips towards herself and waited until Abby was ready to tell her what they were doing. "But some stuff happened recently and I've changed majors."

"To art?" Abby smiled when Clarke nodded. "Good for you."

"You think?" 

"Oh yes. Absolutely. I'm very much in the follow your dreams cheer squad."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." Abby separated the cloths into blue and green, setting the black thread in the middle. "You know, when I was your age, girls were supposed to be wives and, if they wanted to work, secretaries, nurses, teachers. Which are all wonderful jobs," Abby said with a little frown and Clarke nodded because she understood Abby wasn't dismissing them, that she had a story she wanted to tell, "but I wanted to be a doctor. Nice girls," she said with a laugh, mostly full, a little hollow, "aren't supposed to want to be doctors. Nice girls don't do well with blood apparently." Both of them rolled their eyes at that. "It was a different time."

"Not so different. There were only six girls in my class and a lot of the boys never even bothered to learn our names. They assumed we would drop out quickly. I was Blondie."

"How original."

"Right?" Clarke shook her head. "I almost wish I hadn't changed. They're going to think I couldn't cut it."

"Don't give them another moment of thought, Clarke, they aren't worth it."

"I know." She skimmed her fingertips over the edge of the table. "Well, anyway, it doesn't matter. What were you saying?"

"Oh yes! Well, nice girls weren't supposed to want to be doctors. So I wasn't a very nice person." Her smirk was sharp and small and her eyes twinkled with something a little mischievous, a little cruel. "And I was  _very_ good at what I did. And now here I sit, Doctor Abby Kane."

"Are you happy?" 

"Incredibly. It helps that I'm one of the top cardio surgeons in the northern hemisphere."

"Wow. That's..." Clarke blinked. "That's seriously impressive."

"Thank you."

"How exactly do you have time off to do this?" 

"Jaha - the Camp is named after him - was a friend of mine. He died, many years ago," she added when Clarke's face fell and her mouth opened to hand out condolences, "but I have set aside two or three weeks a year to work here. Another doctor, Sinclair, he'll take over when I have to get back to work but until then," she smiled, "you're stuck with me."

"I would hardly describe it as  _stuck._ " 

"That's kind of you." Abby was finished separating the coloured cloths and she smiled. "Alright. Let's see what we can make out of these, hmm?"

* * *

 

As it turned out, designing and making headbands was actually really difficult.  

Twenty minutes in and still whatever Clarke came up with and drew as a design was still too intricate, too much detail, and the black thread was far too thin to show up at a distance. Technically, the colour would distinguish the teams but Abby thought, and Clarke agreed, that a little detail would make the kids feel that much more special. Which was, in the end, what the camp was all about. 

"Okay," Clarke lowered her head to the table. "We need something simple. We need something that will show up." She picked her head up and lowered it again, gently, but trying her best to beat a thought into her brain. "Oh." Clarke sat bolt upright, the quick movement surprising Abby and she hissed when the needle pricked her thumb. "Sorry!"

Abby shrugged, brushed the tiny bead of blood off against her pants. 

"Are you okay?"

"Perfectly fine. Did you think of something?" Abby was far more interested in the bright flash in Clarke's eyes when she had jumped than in the minor - and already faded - pain in her thumb. 

"Yes! I will be right back!"

And she was. Running out of the hall, she returned within a minute with a roll of black ribbon from the art house. 

"Here," she said, breathless. "Also," paused to suck in another breath, "I came up with some," and another breath, "ideas for the design." She dropped onto the bench and scribbled two distinct drawings - so very simple but they would show up bold against the colours with the thick black ribbon and Abby nodded. 

"Clarke, you're a genius."

The girl shrugged. "I know," she grinned, just rocking with the push Abby gave her to her shoulder. "So, what do you think?"

"They're wonderful. If no one hurts themselves in the next day or so - touch wood" as one they rapped their knuckles on the table, "then I should be able to finish these. With a little help?"

"I'm free up until lunch. No classes."

"Wonderful! Of course, you don't need to help me the whole time," she excused the girl, knowing that she was young and no doubt would want to spend time with some of the other counsellors - Lexa, perhaps, because it wasn't just Octavia and a few scattered children who had noticed the smiles and the looks - but Clarke waved her off. 

"Abby, please, it'll be a lot of fun. Plus, I'm really excited for this whole tournament thing so I can't wait to show these to the kids."

"Alright then!" Abby bundled up their supplies. "I'll see you in the morning then. Say, nine-thirty?"

"I will see you then."

Abby nodded to the other table, where Lincoln and Octavia were clearing their plates finally and she smiled. "Go, go, talk to him. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Besides, you need to warn Jasper before Lincoln stumbles upon," Abby's forehead wrinkled in a thoughtful frown, "whatever it is that he's doing."

"True! Alright thank you goodnight see you in the morning," Clarke rattled off, giving her a quick hug before she sprinted after her friends. 

But first. 

"Ca-caw, ca-CAW," she called out loudly as Lincoln and Octavia opened the door. It caused not only Lincoln to turn around as he stepped down onto the lawn, a curious frown on his face, but a flurry of stumbling and cluttering and clattering and scurrying sounds to come in from outside. Specifically, behind the bins. 

Lincoln frowned more severely. 

"Hey, hi, Lincoln," she said, smiling. "Just the guy I wanted to talk to."

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make that sound."

"What sound?" she smiled innocently until he rolled his eyes. 

"I don't want to know, do I?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lincoln sir. I just had a quick question - it's about the point system. How many small points for, you know, good behaviour and sportsmanship and cleanliness and all that, how many small points go into a big point? Also, I was thinking that maybe you should be the one to award them. Maybe after we inspect the cabins and talk to you or suggest someone who was really top notch in class? Because if I just give a whole bunch of points to my team that would be favouritism and the kids could get upset. Also,"

"Clarke." He reached out, laid a hand on her shoulder. She stopped her words in their tracks and he patted her shoulder before removing his hand. "Do you mind if we talk about this in the morning? It's great stuff, really, but I need to think on it."

"Right." Clarke smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I guess I'm just really excited."

"That's wonderful. Now-"

"HEY. GRIFFIN."

Lincoln closed his eyes and sighed heavily through his nose. "I believe Raven is calling you." 

"I don't know what you mean."

"GRIFFIN. HEY. HEY. CLARKE GRIFFIN. BLONDIE. HEY. GRIFFIN!"

"Oh. That."

"You might want to go over there and see what she wants before she rigs something in your cabin."

"I thought we weren't allowed to prank each other?"

"Well." Lincoln frowned. "That's true. But-"

"But Raven doesn't really live by anyone's rules," Octavia said, returning to Lincoln's side from who knew where. "Clarke, you want me to go with you? I'll give her a really filthy look if she tries to mess with you. And I'll even walk you back to your cabin. Who  _knows_ what she's got rigged up for after the kiddies go to bed?"

Lincoln sighed again. "I'm going grey," he muttered and turned to walk away. He made an 'I'm watching you' gesture towards Raven, who lingered in the shadows, who just smiled cheerily and waved back. 

"You shave your head, babe," Octavia reminded him. "Does it matter?"

"It matters to me," he called before disappearing down the track towards the cabin he shared with Octavia. 

"Okay babe. I'll be with you in a minute!" She lifted her eyebrows at Clarke. "You want me to go with you?"

"No, it's alright. I've got this. Plus, I think I'm going to stay up for a bit anyway."

"Ooh. With  _Lexa_?" she teased, poking Clarke in the arm, and she only laughed when the blonde scrunched up her nose and tried to disguise the way her cheeks flushed red. "Alright then. Be safe." Octavia hesitated. The teasing look fell from her face and was replaced with sincerity. "Sleep well," she said and Clarke knew that she must have heard Clarke speaking with Abby about changing majors because her smile was soft and sweet and caring and it made Clarke look up to the sky and the stars because they were far away and made her feel very small and less like she needed to cry. "Love you, Clarke."

"Love you too, dork. See you in the morning."

"GRIFFIN," Raven called as soon as Octavia turned away. 

"I AM  _COMING_ ," she called back.

"Already?" Raven was quick to ask. "I haven't even touched you yet." And even in the dark, Raven could make out the quick, bright flush that reddened Clarke's cheeks and she laughed at the sight. "Chill, Griffin. I'm just teasing."

"Okay, _Reyes_ ," she said. "You know that actually does make me feel kind of badass, calling you by your last name."

"Right?"

"It really does."

"I know. It's fun. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that since you've upped my workload with your whole tournament idea thing but about, mm, a hundred per cent, I consider you my enemy."

"What?"

"Geez, I'm  _kidding_. Wow. What crawled up your butt and got you so tense?" Raven knocked her wrench - that she suddenly and inexplicably had in her hand - against her thigh and pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Anyway, nah we're cool. I've been wanting to play with the electrics for ages now but the Boss doesn't really let me go anywhere near them. I think he's afraid I'm going to make things go BOOM." She grinned. 

"So, you're not upset about the workload?"

"Nah. Finn will help me. WON'T YOU, FINN?"

"SURE," he called back. He walked quickly over, hair flopping majestically with the energy and bounce of his walk, looking every bit a hair model. It was glorious, truly. "So what did I just agree to?"

"We're going to make something that goes boom," she said, patting his chest. "I think maybe for the obstacle course. That'll get the little ankle biters running."

"Raven!"

"You two will wake up the campers if you are any louder," Lexa told them as she wandered by. 

Clarke, of course, turned instantly to smile and wave at her. She murmured a quick goodbye to Raven, with eyes only for Lexa, and jogged to catch up. 

"Did you see that?" Raven asked Finn. "I got dumped for Lexa."

"It's okay, babe. I love you more."

"Yeah I know but...she's a hardass. And boring. I'm so  _cool_! I make things that explode and I'm funny and I have a metal leg." Raven scowled at Lexa's back as the pair moved down and away from the mess hall. "What the hell?"

"I'm sure you can organise a play date to fight with Clarke some other time, babe. Let Lexa have her for the night."

"Fine."

* * *

 

"Lexa, Lexa, hi," Clarke said, jogging to slip into place next to her. She was treated to a nod and a half smile. "Hi," she said again. 

"Good evening, Clarke."

"I, uh, I was wondering what you were doing tonight?" 

"Tonight?" Lexa frowned. "Why?"

"I was thinking, maybe, if you wanted to, we could maybe sit together for a while? I'm not very tired and if you don't want to talk or anything that's fine, I just wanted to catch up on some drawing or something anyway. So just sitting together. I just," Clarke smiled, catching her bottom lip between her teeth and offering Lexa that smile, bashful and utterly sweet. "I thought that might be nice."

Lexa licked her lips. No other part of her gave anything away. After a moment, she nodded. "That would be nice. I was wanting to read in my cabin tonight b-"

"Perfect! I'll be right back."

 With that, Clarke took off toward her own cabin at a sprint. Frowning, but obediently waiting in place, Lexa held her hands loosely behind her back and rocked from her heels to her toes and back again. It was only a short time before Clarke returned - managing to step on every dry leaf, twig, and medium sized branch on the way. She had changed into her pyjamas and had her jacket half on over them. She hopped down the path, trying her best to tug on her boot over her new colourful socks she had changed into. When she reached Lexa's side, she braced herself against the other girl and gave her boot an almighty tug and it finally slid on. She bent down to tie the laces. 

"Okay! I'm ready!" Clarke clapped when she jumped up onto her feet. "Let's go!"

"First," Lexa said, carefully taking the shoulder and other arm to Clarke's jacket and holding it so she could easily slip in. "Now we can go."

Clarke throws her a wide smile and she's so near to sparkling that there came a feeling in the pit of Lexa's stomach, one that sped its way around her body and settled in her knees, weakening them. She knew what the feeling was and ordinarily it would bother her - that's not what she was here for, that's not what she had intended to happen this summer at all - but in the face of Clarke's smile, she didn't mind it so much. 

When she was recovered (it took two deep breaths and a stern reminder to her legs to hold her up  _or else_ ) she nodded toward her own cabin and Clarke walked next to her.

Their hands knocked as they walked. Lexa looked down, once, and she pressed her lips flat to avoid a smile because Clarke's gait wouldn't move her hand like that. Which meant that she was doing it. On purpose. 

Lexa cleared her throat. 

It was a silly idea. 

She wanted to do it.

"Are your hands cold?" she asked Clarke, eyebrows raised.  Clarke looked like she was about to apologise, so Lexa hurried on. "It is a bit chilly." She slowly took Clarke's hand in hers and pretended she didn't see the way Clarke's smile pushed hard at her cheeks. 

She did see it though and committed it to memory. 

"So," Clarke said, making small talk to fill the silence because they were taking a very long, slow route to Lexa's cabin apparently. Which was fine with her. "Are you excited?"

Lexa cocked her head a little to the side. "Excited?" She wondered if it was just her imagination or if her hands were sweating. She hoped it wasn't. 

"Yeah. About the tournament. Sorry," Clarke rolled her eyes at herself. "Sometimes I forget that people aren't thinking about the same things I am at the same time. Anyway, yes, the tournament." She squeezed Lexa's hand. "Excited?"

"It will certainly be an experience." Lexa nodded to Raven as they walked by her cabin, next to Lexa's. Raven wiggled her fingers in a hello and, eyes darting down to catch them holding hands, she grinned widely. She opened her mouth to call out but Finn nudged her hard and shook his head. As Raven pouted, Clarke waved as well, a one fingered wave, which made Raven laugh. 

And laugh.

They could still hear her laughing when Lexa opened the door to her cabin and stepped back to let Clarke in first.

"That," Clarke said in a hushed, awed tone, "is the neatest bed I have ever seen."

"Thank you." Lexa leant against her cupboard with a smug little smile. (Clarke found it unreasonably attractive.) "That's why my team is going to beat you  _every morning_ at inspection." 

"We'll see about that." Clarke dropped onto Lexa's bed. "Oops. I messed it up."

"How very adult of you."

Clarke just shrugged, grinned, and propped herself up on her elbows. She glanced curiously around Lexa's room. "No, but seriously. Your room is seriously neat."

"I even fold my underwear."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Lexa, fairly certain that she was joking but she held such an impeccably straight face (and what an impeccable face it was) that Clarke couldn't be sure. 

"Well. In addition to your folded underwear, you've got a nice place here."

"Allow me to give you the tour." Lexa pushed off the cupboard and gestured to where Clarke was lying down. "Bed." Then to the bedside table. "Library." And there were, in fact, five books stacked on top of one another. The cupboard was next. "Wardrobe." Then, Lexa pointed to the entrance. "Bathroom, kitchen, dining room, swimming pool are all that way." Lexa couldn't hold back her smile when Clarke began to laugh loudly at that. 

"Quick tour. Mind if I take a look at the library?"

Lexa nodded before remembering the book on top was-

"Nicole and Shay find themselves at crossroads in their lives. In a random stroke of luck, they meet and so begins a whirlwind adventure and a romance that will change their lives forever," Clarke reads dramatically. She grins when Lexa flushes. "So, you like romance stories?"

"It's very well written and whatever it says on the back, romance is only part of the story." Lexa pauses. "But yes, I do." She was itching to take it out of Clarke's hands because she suspected that the other girl didn't  _quite_ understand yet what it was and if she flicked open to, say, page 66 she would have a very good idea. 

"Can I read it?"

Lexa pressed her lips together and forced herself to say, oh so mildly, "I don't know if it'll be your type of book," is what she settled on.

Clarke frowned. "Why not?"

"Well."

"I can  _read_ , you know," Clarke teased, and Lexa crossed her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 

"That's good to know. That's also not why I said that."

"Why not?" Clarke asked again, less curious about the book than she was about the way Lexa's eyes focused on it and wavered between staying where she was and walking forward - to what? Take the book away? Clarke would of course give it back to her and she even made to put it down, she had no intention of bothering Lexa, but before she could, Lexa spoke.

"It's a lesbian romance," she said. 

Clarke blinked. Her hand tightened on the book. "Shay is a woman as well?" she clarified. Lexa nodded. "Cool!" She jumped back onto the bed, bending down to loosen the laces on her boots before toeing them off. Clarke made herself comfortable against the wall and pulled a pillow onto her lap. "I never know where to find these," she admitted. "Well, I don't look very often because I've basically been studying nonstop for years so fiction hasn't been  _super_ high on my list but still, I have no idea where to find these."

"You're happy to read it?"

"Are you kidding me?  _Absolutely_." Clarke patted the bed next to her. "Come on, you can read something else. Sorry for stealing your book."

"Oh, it's fine. I've read it before." Lexa removed her shoes as well and sat next to Clarke. "I thought you were going to draw?" she asked as Clarke opened to the first page.

"Hmm? Oh yeah." She pulled out a small sketchbook from her pocket. "But this is cooler. Do you want to look?" she asked, seeing that Lexa had fixated on it. Lexa began to decline but Clarke just tossed it in her lap. "It's nothing special, go ahead. Also, is it cool if I lie down? This isn't comfortable."

"Go ahead," Lexa said, wondering how exactly Clarke made it feel like she belonged in this room, with her. She smiled as she watched Clarke shuffle into a more comfortable pose - it ended up that Clarke lay on her stomach, pillow under her chin, and one of her feet, Lexa noticed, dug into the blanket a little as the other bobbed lazily in the air bent at the knee. She noticed too that Clarke's hair was loose and she, now and again, pushed it back behind her ear or blew it out of her eyes as she read. 

All in all, Lexa spent more time watching Clarke than she did reading her book and eventually she abandoned it altogether in favour of running her fingers over the cover of Clarke's sketchbook and, eventually, opening it. They were good. She wasn't an artist but she could make out the shapes of objects - boots, tables, a hand, the lake, trees, flowers - and they changed between messy and precise and something in between, thick lines and thin.

But most importantly, each of the drawings had a little swirl of a C and an L and K and a G and Lexa couldn't help but smile. 

Time wore on and for some reason, it never occurred to Lexa to ask Clarke to leave. Her eyelids began to droop closed and she too moved to lay on her stomach, chatted quietly with Clarke for some time, and her words turned to whispers and then stopped coming altogether and Clarke must have followed suit because in the morning, that was how they found themselves. 

In Lexa's bed, their socked feet touching, Clarke's head tucked below Lexa's chin. 


	9. Sunday Sleep In & Suspicious Activities

Sky Crew: 1

Grounders: 0

* * *

 The first thing she noticed as she woke was that it was really warm in her cabin. Like, _really_ warm. Which was unusual because her cabin was just up from the lake so she always got those kind of chilly, slightly damp breeze that swept in across the water in the morning. And she had been enjoying them too – sure, you couldn’t leave your computer or phone out in case it got misty and rusted from the inside out, but it was summer and hot and she didn’t like the sweat that crawled down her back.

She crinkled her nose, rolled her shoulders back in the hope that the small movement would scratch the itch. Everything was muggy, humid and her body felt sluggish in response. She didn’t want to open her eyes. She wriggled again, trying to get her shirt to soak up the sweat.

An arm tightened around her waist, pulling her a little closer toward a warm – repeat: _warm_ – body.

“What the fuck, Octavia.” Clarke pushed an arm between their bodies and wriggled away as much as she could. “It’s too hot for this shit,” she groaned. “Get in your own bed.” She pushed hard – only to feel a strange lurch in her stomach as her world up ended and she toppled over the edge of the bed and fell. “Oh god, I’m in pain.”

A person, a distinctly not-Octavia person, shot upright to sitting. She rolled over to the edge of the bed and peered over the side. Lexa looked down at her. Then she brought her hands up to her eyes, rubbed the sleep slowly out of them. After that, she said in a low, quiet voice, “You aren’t one for snuggling, then?”

Another lurch in her stomach. She wasn’t falling this time.

Ignoring, squashing down that tiny voice in her head that was cheering, saying she _was_ falling in _lurve_ , Clarke pouted. Reached up to tug a pillow down to the ground to tuck under her head.

“I am normally but you’re really hot,” she said with an easy shrug, like she had flung herself out of the bed on purpose. Lexa raised her eyebrows. Clarke thought about explaining herself but, whatever, it was true.

Exactly three hot seconds later, she changed her mind again.

“I mean, like, temperature wise. Physically you’re very attractive, but I was talking about your body temperature. The bed cover was acting like a heat trap, it’s a fucking sauna in there and I’m actually legit sweating…” She pulled at her shirt, grimaced when it stuck a little to her skin.

Lexa was laughing at her, quietly, little rumbles moving her shoulders. Little wisps of hair had escaped from her braid – Lexa must have fallen asleep with it still in the night before, and she realized at the same time Clarke did because she reached behind her to remove the tie at the bottom of the braid, running slow fingers through it to untangle it.

“You’re chatty in the morning,” Lexa said when she was finished.

“Is that why you’re so quiet at breakfast all the time? Not a morning person?”

Lexa shrugged. Flopped back into her pillow and pulled the sheet up and over her head. After a moment, she peeked out. “Are you coming back to bed?”

“Why, Miss Lexa, that’s wildly inappropriate,” Clarke drawled and she delighted in the slight flush. Could have been caused by the sauna Lexa was personally heating but… Lexa extended her hand from under the sheet and flipped her the middle finger. “But yeah, your floor is really uncomfortable. Shove over. Are you always a bed hog?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out.”

It must have been the heat and the early hour, but that didn’t feel so risky to say or intense to hear. It just sounded right and fun and like something she was looking forward to.

“Move _over_ , Lexa,” Clarke warned. “And if you touch me with your dangerously over-heated body I will throw you in the lake.”

* * *

They slept until Lexa’s alarm went off, blaring in Clarke’s ear.

Lexa’s slow, careful sleepiness seemed to be consistent – she blinked herself awake, rubbed her eyes with closed fists again. She stood very carefully and stepped over a starfished Clarke who had buried her head under the pillow when the alarm didn’t seem to be stopping.

“Clarke?”

A groan.

“Would you like to stay here, or are you ready to get up?”

Another groan. Then, “Time?”

“Almost six.”

“Oh my fucking… No.”

Lexa ducked her head down, smiled just a little at the ground. “I’m getting changed,” she said quietly. Clarke didn’t move at all, so Lexa opened her closet door and used it to block the view from the bed. Just to be polite. She pulled on her running clothes and then sat on the bed to tie her shoes. She stood and hesitated at the door. She knew she had to leave because there was an uncomfortable prickling scattered across her skin, a tightness and a shortness of breath that came with it, and she was pretty sure it had something to do with this complete disruption of her routine.

How did this happen?

She had no fucking clue.

She – it – that was to say, it wasn’t a _bad_ thing, to have Clarke in her bed. And it had been easy, even. They were friends? They were, and Lexa was comfortable with her. But this was something new and different and she wasn’t sure how exactly it was working or going to work and she needed to go on her run.

She had to leave. But first, “I’ll be back soon, if you would like to stay.”

Clarke yawned. “Maybe. Where are you going?” Her words were almost sleep slurred. Lexa wrapped her hand around the door knob.

“Around the lake.”

“Around the – that lake is enormous! You run the whole thing?” Clarke sat up, blinking and scrunching her face. Dozens of pillow lines marked her cheek and arm. Lexa looked to the floor.

“No, just halfway. Then I swim back from the far side.” Lexa peeked up to see a frown and carefully, she added, “That was a joke.”

“Oh. _Oh_. Dude, don’t do that.” Clarke yawned again, covering her mouth with a hand. “I’m sure it was funny or whatever but I’m ninety per cent asleep. Because it’s six am. In the morning. And you and I should be asleep like normal people.” She slumped backwards and to the side and dragged her knees up to her chest. Lexa smiled. That was cute. Very cute.

“Well, sleep well, Clarke,” she said quietly and Clarke must have fallen asleep already because she had begun snoring softly. Lexa opened and closed the door behind her as gently as she could, not wanting to interrupt her sleep, and she set off immediately on her favourite route.

She focused on the feeling of running, rather than the image of Clarke in her bed. There were roots and rocks and loose soil as she moved closer to the lake and she had risked many a turned ankle running here, she just had to _concentrate_ and so she pushed herself harder. No music in her ears, just nature and the sound of her breathing. She was always reminded of her sister’s distaste – “you’re so fucking pretentious about some things, Lex, you know that right? Music doesn’t disrupt from the flow of energy, whatever the fuck that means. When Nicki Minaj is playing, no one can fucking stop me so you can listen to your birds or whatever, I’m going to listen to my music” – and it always made her smile and she fell into her rhythm and didn’t think of Clarke again.

* * *

She slipped into the shower when she was done and she remembered that Clarke’s hair smelled like the shampoo all the counsellors used, and that hair had been on her pillow – maybe _still was_ – because Clarke had been pressed up against her all night and morning and

Lexa sighed and turned the water to cold.

* * *

“Clarke?” Lexa rapped at the door of her own cabin. There was no answer, so she pushed the door open. She was disappointed by the idea that Clarke had left, but then she saw the lump in her bed and checked the time on her clock. She felt no regrets pulling the sheets and Clarke uncurled enough to glare at her. “Rise and shine.”

“No.”

“Yes, Clarke, the day has begun. And you’re on breakfast duty.”

“What?”

“Jasper requested you.”

“That ass. How do you know that?” Clarke grinned, slipping from grumpy to teasing in a heartbeat. “Stalking me?”

“You’re the one that climbed into my bed, Miss Griffin, I would think carefully about making accusations.”

“Oh no, I’m definitely stalking you. Just trying to see if that’s reciprocated.” Clarke held her breath – risky move there, Griffin, she couldn’t help but think – but Lexa looked away and neated the books on her nightstand and she shrugged.

“I happened to see it when I was checking my own chores.”

“That’s a big yes, then,” Clarke said, and she scooted to the edge of the bed and made to stand. But her feet touched the floor and she hissed, drawing them back up. “Cold,” she said when Lexa looked amused – and a little soft, a little like ‘oh no that was cute’, which Clarke could totally understand seeing as she felt it pretty much consistently around Lexa – and pouted and reached back into the sheets for her socks, which she must have pushed off at some point during the night. “Alright, my lovely stalker, breakfast then?”

“Don’t you want to get changed?”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Clarke asked, standing and slipping into her boots. Pyjamas, a jacket, and bed hair made for an interesting combination.

“You look like you’ve been lost in the wilderness for several days,” is what Lexa said, lightly teasing, and she held her breath as she waited for a reply because of course she had to go and say something insulting instead of a classic _nothing at all, you look lovely_.

But Clarke just laughed and shrugged. “Whatever. It’s Sunday, none of the kids are awake. Jasper will take pity and give me triple dose coffee if I go in looking like this.” She pulled the door open. “After you.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

“Jesus, Clarke, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, Jasper.”

“Here, triple shot coffee. I saw you walking up the hill and after I got over the fright, thought you were a zombie, y’know, I made it the way you like it.”

“You can stop with the digs, Jasper.” She took the coffee with a thank you and a warning glare and he saluted her sloppily and returned to the bacon and eggs. She sat down with the others. “Okay, so I haven’t brushed my hair. Do I really look that bad?”

Octavia looked up from her coffee and stared at Clarke for a moment, expressionless. “I still love you,” she said.

Clarke sighed and hunched over her coffee, waving Octavia back to her conversation with Lincoln. About…jet packs? She barely registered when Lexa sat next to her – she _definitely_ registered when Lexa touched their knees together very gently, and she looked over at the other woman.

“You shouldn’t listen to them,” Lexa said. “You look nice.”

It was a blatant lie – okay, perhaps not a lie, but Clarke knew full well she looked like a walking birds nest before she brushed her hair – but it made Clarke’s stomach swoop and she grinned, sipped at her coffee.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t look half bad either.”

Lexa frowned at her quiet sternly and Clarke thought for a moment she had said something wrong. “Half bad is not the same as nice, Clarke.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to try again?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Clarke leaned in a little closer. “You look hot in your running clothes, but you’re cuter when you wake up,” she said softly but with intent eyes and Lexa froze. What exactly was going on? Neither of them was entirely sure. But the longer they held each others gaze, the more chance someone was going to notice and call them out on it so Clarke stood, brushed her hand over Lexa’s shoulder, and moved into the kitchen to dump her cup in the sink. “Hey, I’ll be back to help you wash up after I have a shower, Jasper,” she told him and he nodded and waved her away. He was doing something mildly concerning with a syringe and a substance that was both smoking and a colour she couldn’t really describe and plant she had never seen before, so he wasn’t paying attention.

Lexa was still frozen in place when Clarke exited the kitchen, and it put a buzzing extra little hop in her step, knowing she had caused that minor fritz.

Octavia was on her bed when she walked in.

“My my my, what do we have here?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I’m here for my shower stuff, O, I don’t have time for an interrogation.”

“Umm the best friend manual explicitly demands that you inform your best friend of your eventual hook up with a girl you have been eye-fucking all week. Spill the beans, buttercup.”

“First of all, I haven’t been eye-fucking her.” Octavia snorted. “I haven’t!”

“No, no, sure okay. My mistake.”

“Some light eye-foreplay, maybe.”

“That sounds creepy.”

“Yeah. Anyway, we didn’t sleep together, okay? Well, there was no sex involved.”

“Oh.” Octavia pouted. Then she smiled again and flipped onto her stomach, kicked her legs up and laid her chin on her hands. “So what _did_ happen then?”

Clarke smiled and shrugged, threw her jacket onto the chair. “I read, she sat with me, we talked a bit. We just kind of fell asleep. And O, jesus, she’s really warm and she smells nice. Like…like the forest, kind of. But not dirt and bugs, like pine? And something else, it’s probably sweat but she smells really good.” Octavia tried not to gag – Clarke was firmly in the saccharine crush phase and Octavia had to be nice about it. She wanted her friend to be happy. “She’s adorable in the mornings as well, she’s sleepy and cute.”

“Did you kiss?”

“No.”

“What the fuck, Clarke? She invites you to her cabin and you literally sleep in the same bed and you _don’t_ kiss?” She raised her eyebrows. That wasn’t like the Clarke she knew.

Clarke agreed, on some level. But on another level, this felt new and weird and stronger and different. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been with anyone in forever. She didn’t think so, though. She flopped onto the bed and Octavia patted her head, sifted her fingers through Clarke’s hair.

“Life is hard,” the blonde groaned, and Octavia clicked her tongue sympathetically.

“I know, babe.” It took only a few seconds for her face to light up. Clarke couldn’t see it, but she did hear the slight cackle. “You know what else is hard?”

Clarke snorted. “Penis.”

“That’s right.”

Clarke lifted her hand and Octavia obliged, high fiving her.

“Also, Lexa’s abs,” Clarke added and Octavia wolf whistled, giving her another high five. They laid together comfortably for a while before Clarke shifted, nudged her shoulder in Octavia. “Hey, can we talk about something?”

“For sure, babe. What’s up?” The serious tone didn’t worry Octavia. She just hoped that whatever it was, Clarke knew that she could trust her, that she loved her, and that she could actually do something to help. Octavia hated not being able to _do_ things.

“About Lincoln,” she said, and Octavia nodded. “Is he…what’s going on there? Is he your summer fling or…?” Octavia had worked at the camp with Lincoln for three years now, Clarke knew that, but the relationship. That was new. She was sure of that. Like, high eighties sure. Maybe sixty. Okay she had no idea and her stomach felt heavy and gross pressed to the mattress so she rolled onto her side so they were facing one another, and though one arm went under her head to keep it propped up, the other she kept close around her body. The gross feeling hadn’t faded. And though she wanted to touch Octavia, she wasn’t sure that she should. She should know these things, what Octavia felt, who Lincoln fully was to her. But she didn’t.

She focused on a little floral pattern on her bedsheets.

“He was. Kind of. For the first two summers. It kind of just happened, you know?” She sighed happily and Clarke nodded. “He put flowers on my bed every couple of days, it was really sweet. And kind of dorky, but mostly really sweet. Plus, he’s supremely hot. But he’s also really great with kids and he’s funny and really gentle and he has a little cat and two little sisters and he loves his mum and he watched all of Scandal with me and he loves his friends and he’s studying to be a teacher and he’s really passionate and smart and I feel really, really great when I’m around him.”

“Wow. Okay. How did I not know any of this?” They both knew why. “How long have you two been dating? Officially?” She caught her lip, worried it a little. “I’m sorry I don’t know this stuff, O, I feel like the worst best friend.”

“Shut your mouth, you’re best best friend. You just,” Octavia shrugged. “Needed some you time.”

“Six months of it?”

“Hey. You’re a complex and wonderful person. Six months is, like, the bare minimum to cover how wonderful you are.”

“Oh my god, O. Sweet talker.”

“Hot thang.”

“Flirt.”

“Bae.”

“Okay, but seriously, how long?”

“Well.” Octavia squinted up at the ceiling and counted on her fingers. “We hooked up a camp last year so like we’ll just count that as two months, and then I came back to uni and he went back to his home and then around November he texted me and,” Octavia shrugged. “Yeah. It just kind of happened. He drove down to visit me for a weekend, we had a couple of skype dates too, I stayed with him over a long weekend. So...maybe eight months?”

Clarke reached out then and gave her hand a squeeze. They lay there for a while, just thinking. Clarke thought hard about what she wanted to say, Octavia tried hard not to smile when she thought about their first dates and about how cute he looked in a tie.

Finally, Clarke spoke again. “I love that you’re trying to be so chill about it,” is what she settled on. “Because you’re buzzing on the inside aren’t you? I know you, you’re _so_ into him. You can tell me, come on. You can trust me.”

Octavia laughed. “I’m so into him.” She grinned, buried half her face in Clarke’s pillow. “ _So_ into him.”

Clarke laughed, then did a double take. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Oh my god.”

“ _What_?”

Clarke grabbed her hand, sat up. “Octavia? Are you – is he – are you?” she trailed off and just stared at her intently. Octavia frowned.

“I’m going to need more than just that to go off to answer the question.”

“Don’t be a fucking jerk Octavia, you know exactly what I’m asking. Are you or are you not in love with him?”

“…I am.”

“Oh my _god_! Babe!” Clarke squealed and hugged her hard, patting her hard on the shoulder when Octavia hugged her back. “Too tight, too tight. Damn girl, you’ve been working out.”

“Thank you for noticing.”

“Sure, of course.” They settled again, then Clarke smiled widely. “So. Love, huh? That’s is a big deal.”

“He’s a big deal,” Octavia said seriously. After a moment she snorted. “I didn’t mean the entendre but now that I think about it,” she winked and Clarke groaned but laughed.

“Classy.”

“Thanks, babe.” Octavia managed to sit still for a good few minutes before she squirmed happily in place and reached over to squeeze Clarke’s knee. “I’m really, really happy,” she said, and Clarke teared up a little. “Oh no, Clarke, I’m sorry I-“

“No, no, shut up, these are happy tears.” Clarke wiped at them and hugged Octavia for what felt like the ninetieth time that morning. “This is like, the real deal then, huh?”

“I mean, I want to make it work. And all the serious discussions we’ve had have us on the same page so yeah. I think so.”

“You want to marry him.”

“I mean,” Octavia shrugged. “I guess.” She looked sideways at an expectant Clarke, who just pushed her eyebrows higher and waited until Octavia cracked. “Yes. Yeah, okay, I want to marry him. Or settle down with him, have a life with him. Not super sure about marriage, given that the whole basis of the institution is that the woman is being sold to the man not for her sake but literally so the dad gets some livestock or extra land or whatever,” Clarke nodded, murmuring _of course, of course_ , “but settle down? Absolutely. I love him so much and I want to marry him and get a house and a mortgage and all those adult things and have a little fence and a dog and a job and talk to him about my day and go shopping with him for kitchen appliances and share a Netflix account and all that shit.”

“That’s really great, O.”

“Yeah. It is, isn’t it?”

After a few moments, basking in the idea of living with Lincoln, Octavia poked her friend. “Babe, I love you, but you need to go have a shower.”

* * *

“GRIFFIN.”

Clarke sometimes wondered if Raven had a setting other than mildly terrifying.

“GRIFFIN, DON’T IGNORE ME. I’M OVER HERE.”

Finn, next to Clarke in line for lunch, nudged her. “You should probably just talk to her.”

“But I’m scared,” she whined, and she grinned when he threw his head back, glorious hair rippling slightly with the movement, and laughed. “Nah, I thought I would just let her stew for a bit.”

“Oh no. That's a terrible plan. She hates waiting.”

“Damn fucking straight I do, sorry boss,” Raven tacked on as a reflex for swearing, though Lincoln was nowhere around. “And making me wait is fucking rude, sorry boss. It’s not like you _want_ me to shout across the cafeteria into all these impressionable young ears and minds that I saw you coming out of Lexa’s cabin this morning all heart eyes and rumpled hair, do you?”

Clarke flushed a deep red and Raven clamped a tight hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder, making him wince. “Nothing happened, Raven,” Clarke said quietly, looking around to make sure no one could hear them.

“Right.” Raven tapped her nose. “I got it. Nothing happened.” She nodded, and backed away, taking Finn with her. “Got it.”

“No, Raven, I’m serious,” she called after her, but it was too late. “Raven, come back. Don’t talk to anyone. Raven. REYES.” She glowered after the other girl for a long while before she sighed and turned back to Jasper – only, instead of Jasper, Lexa was holding her tray. “Oh. Hey, hi, oh is that for me?”

“Jasper’s arms were getting tired waiting for you.” She looked over Clarke’s shoulders at Raven, who peeked around the entry way to the cafeteria to look at the pair of them. “Why is Raven spying on you?”

“No reason,” Clarke said with a nervous smile, wholly convincing. Lexa lifted her eyebrows. “Want to eat lunch with me? There’s this nice table outside by the lake.”

“That sounds very nice, yes.” She turned back to the kitchen, had a heated but murmured conversation with Jasper, before finally taking her tray and an extra small box, which she slipped into her pocket.

“What was _that_ all about?” Clarke asked, and Lexa gave her a sly, suspicious, sideways look.

“Raspberries,” was all she said, and Clarke laughed.

“Whoa, don’t go giving me too much information there, chatterbox.” Lexa snorted, set her tray down on the table. She pulled the box out of her pocket and subtly – actually subtly, not like Clarke might have, craning her neck around – checked to see if the coast was clear. She opened the box to show Clarke the small selection of chocolate coated raspberries. “Jasper makes you run weird missions for him in return for these, doesn’t he?” Clarke guessed.

“I…don’t know what you mean.”

“That’s clever,” Clarke continued. “I do it for free. I’m such a pushover, honestly.”

“Or a nice friend.”

“Oh, I like that.” Clarke nodded, gave Lexa a wide smile that sent her heart into mild palpitations. “That’s a good spin. Nice. But wait, so you’re saying you’re not nice since you’re doing it for payment? I don’t believe that.”

Lexa shrugged. “I don’t do things for free. I’m not kind.”

“I don’t believe that. You’ve been very nice to me.” Clarke said. She wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact as she said it, turning to watch a few of the kids running down into the lake and saying the words quietly, honestly. "I've really enjoyed spending time with you."

“Well.” Lexa dragged her eyes away and fixed them on her plate. She scratched her nose, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she allowed herself a tiny, pleased smile. “Alright then.”

The rest of their lunch passed quietly. Lexa told Clarke a little more about her sister – a few years older, very clever, very bothersome as all sisters had to be – and Clarke told Lexa a little more about her and Octavia – friends basically from birth, different universities made it hard to keep in touch sometimes but they were managing, this summer was glorious and a life-saver and she loved her best friend to pieces. Lexa even shared her raspberries with Clarke. But finally, it was time for Lexa to go back to work and she apologised quietly before she moved quickly back to the kitchen, handing her tray over to Jasper.

Clarke stayed out in the sun. She had no more chores that day – she would probably wander over to hang out with Octavia, who was taking archery with the kids, but until then she thought she might just enjoy the sun.

She laid back on the bench, stretched, let one hand fall down to scrape against the grass below, and dozed on and off in the warmth.

After some time, there were a few scuffles nearby and then quiet steps. Clarke cracked open an eye and then closed it again.

“Good afternoon, Murphy.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Clarke.”

“What are you up to? Not misbehaving, I hope?”

“Never, Miss Clarke,” he said, and her lips turned up into a small smile because no, of course not, he would _never_. “You don’t happen to know where we could get a lot of potatoes, would you?”

“Well, the kitchen has – wait. What for?”

“Just wondering,” he said, but suspicions made her sit up and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, like, maybe experiments? But totally safe experiments.” The boys flanking him – Wells, Atom, Diggs – nodded with wide, innocent smiles.

“You won’t mind if I join you then,” Clarke said, and Murphy hesitated. Turned away to talk quietly with the others.

Then, “We don’t need any potatoes,” he said, and smiled, and they backed away. Clarke watched them go, disappearing around the back of one of the cabins and in the forest a short way toward where Clarke knew was a little tree house. She stood, stretched. Checked her watch. Lincoln should probably know about this, she reasoned, and she made her way down to the lake where he was checking the canoes for the Monday class.

“Clarke! Hello,” he boomed at her, and Clarke blinked because she was pretty sure that was the first time he had spoken louder than slightly-above-quiet. “Do you want to try out a canoe?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He looked a little crestfallen, and Clarke panicked. “Oh no, okay, yes I will try one out! Soon! I’m sorry, Lincoln, they look like great canoes!”

He laughed at that and shook his head. “You don’t have to Clarke. I just assumed that was why you were coming down.”

“Oh, no. No, Murphy and his little gang asked me where they could find a lot of potatoes and then acted super suspicious and mentioned experiments. I don’t know what they would do with them but,” she shrugged.

Lincoln narrowed his eyes in the direction of the tree house. “Thank you, Clarke,” he said. “I appreciate the fore warning.” He lightened after a moment and smiled at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to try out a canoe?”

“Very sure. I’m not a huge fan of boats.”

“That would explain why you aren’t signed up for any of the water sports,” he said, and Clarke could easily understand how her best friend had fallen in love with him. His eyes crinkled, and dimples popped into place when he grinned at her, and she felt safe and happy around him and she was so, so pleased that Octavia had found him. “How about swimming?”

“Oh, yeah, huge fan. I love swimming.”

“Excellent.” He smiled at her, disarmingly. He pulled the canoe he was examining up and out of the water, setting it in its place, and then made his way over to where Clarke was standing. When Clarke realised what was about to happen, she backed quickly up the hill, tripped over her feet, tried to run. He swept her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder.

“No, no no no, no, NO LINCOLN. PUT ME DOWN.”

He did.

Clarke stood, spluttering, drenched. She dragged both hands up her face, throwing her hair back. Stepped up and out of the lake, intent on making him pay for it. He was easily twice her size and he just laughed when she tugged ineffectively at him. Finally, she sighed.

“Okay dude, I get it, you're enormous. Just...throw yourself in the lake, please.”


	10. Homesick and Heartsick

Sky Crew: 1

Grounders: 0

* * *

It was another three days before Clarke really gets to talk to Lexa. Neither of them were avoiding one another – far from it. The four times Clarke got to sit with Lexa – one breakfast, two lunches, and a dessert – they had either talked for a whole five minutes before being pulled away to talk to some kids about not beating each other with their spoons, left to talk to a homesick child, and this time Clarke had just…fallen asleep. It was only luck that stopped her from falling face first into her icecream.

“Long hours?” Lexa said, touching Clarke’s shoulder to nudge her awake. The blonde jerked her eyes open and rubbed at them, yawning.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve just – this is the most action I’ve had in months.” She yawned again, a yawn so big Lexa swore she could count each individual tooth in Clarke’s mouth. “Sorry, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re on night duty, aren’t you?”

Clarke smiled. She was tired to the bones but that was fine, Jasper knew how she liked her coffee. And besides, they were all good kids. She was happy to do it.

“Let me do it,” Lexa offered. She looked down at her plate, pushed the remnants of the blueberry pie around. “I have a strategy meeting with my Grounders anyway. Before the big match on Friday.”

“Me too.” Clarke shrugged. “We can do it together, if you want?” She reached over, took Lexa’s spoon off her. “Stop playing with your food, the kids will get the wrong idea.” There were some crumbs still on the spoon and Clarke thought nothing of it, lifting it up and popping it in her mouth. She reached over, took Lexa’s plate and stacked it in her own, walking their plates over to the kitchen window. “Order up,” she said, passing them into Bellamy.

“Har har, never heard that one before.”

“You’re going to be hearing it a lot more,” Clarke shrugged.

“What? Why?”

“Like, twelve kids just heard me and they thought it was hilarious. Sorry, dude.”

“Oh no.”

Sure enough, Clarke heard the bench scrape back and every kid, standing on their tiptoes, passing their bowls in to Bellamy, who had to laugh each time a little squeaky voice said, “Order up.”

She walked faster, ducking down to tap Lexa’s shoulder. “Come on, I gotta run, Bellamy hates me.” Lexa stood, but not quickly enough. “Come on, come on, let’s _go_.”

“Clarke, there is a limited speed that I can manage.”

“Well, unlimit yourself, Elphaba.”

Lexa’s eyebrows were near her forehead when Clarke finished running and slowed by the first of the cabins for spot check and to make a list of the kids they needed to round up for bed time. Clarke shrugged at her. “What?”

“Elphaba?”

“Well I’m clearly Galinda.”

“I was surprised. I thought you were a fan of more…popular music.”

“I am.”

“But that was a musical?”

“Gasp,” Clarke said flatly, “A girl? Enjoying more than one type of thing? Impossible. Burn her, she’s a witch.”

Lexa laughed – her mouth actually stretched into a full blown grin – and Clarke paused, staring at her wide-eyed. She looked away before Lexa could notice and swallowed hard, running up the steps to the door of the first cabin. She shook out the shake in her hands, cursing her brain. Yes, she’s totally beautiful. Yes, you have a huge crush on her. Geez, just get over it already, you know? Bodies are so fucking _dumb_. She turned back to Lexa, who was leaning against the railing and just _smiling_ up at her and Clarke felt her stomach flip-flop and turned away again quickly, rapping on the door.

“Good evening, soldiers. Roll call.”

* * *

The next day – a Thursday, the day before The Big Match – saw Clarke on the banks of the lake again but safely far from the water.

“Hey, Fox,” one of the girls who had been taken on a nature hike with Finn and had “fallen in love with nature” and insisted on being called that, even though Clarke was _fairly_ sure the teenager had fallen in love with brown eyes and glorious hair, “your painting is looking really super.”

“No. It’s awful. I can’t get the water to look right.”

“Hmm. Okay, what do you think the problem is?”

“It looks way too flat. It’s windy today and I was trying to do the little wave things but,” she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really a painter, Clarke. Can I do something else?”

“Tell you what, how about I give you some pointers, you try them out, and in about ten minutes if you’re still not into it we can find something else to do. Yeah?” Clarke loved the little shrug and smile the girl gave her. It wasn’t super enthusiastic but she stayed in place and she did try and Clarke really felt like she wasn’t screwing this whole thing up. In general, she thought the kids actually _liked_ her. Which was a pretty big deal. “Hey, it’s looking great. The trees look amazing, by the way.”

“Thanks, Clarke.”

“Anytime. I’m going to go check on some of the younger kids – you alright here, everyone?” There were seven of them painting and they all looked up at her, nodded, smiled. She made a warning motion, pointing at her eyes and back at them, and in classic teenage fashion they rolled their eyes and went back to work. They were all good kids, though, so she didn’t feel bad about leaving them for a few minutes to check on the others. One boy was sitting quietly at his station, not working at all. She noticed a distinct lack of paper on his desk and sighed.

“Hey Wells. What happened to your paper?” she asked, dropping down onto the grass next to him.

“Umm.” Wells looked at her solemnly. “I don’t have it anymore. I’m sorry, Miss Clarke.”

“That’s alright. How about you go and get some more? You know where it is, right? Just inside the art house, second drawer?” He nodded quickly and hopped up.

“Yes Miss Clarke, I know where the paper is.”

“Okay, good job Wells. No running!” she called after the running child, who looked guiltily back at her over his shoulder, slowed for a beat before taking off at a run again. She rolled her eyes. Kids. And the next kid to deal with… “Hey there, Murphy.”

Murphy didn’t look up. “Hey.”

Clarke blinked. That was unusual from him. Usually he was a pretty chill little dude, if a little mischievous. But that was just flat out low and angry and Clarke scratched at her neck before she sat down next to him as well, just like she had with Wells. “What’s up, John?”

“It’s _Murphy_ ,” he said, glaring at her, and Clarke nodded. She plucked some long grass and cut a little hole with her thumbnail to thread the grass through, fashioning a little ring for herself.

“Sorry Murphy. How’s your drawing coming along?”

“You don’t care.” His shoulders hunched forward and he continued scribbling.

“Yeah I do. Do you want any pointers? Or extra colours?” she asked.

“No. Just leave me alone.”

She pursed her lips and slipped her completed ring onto her ring, reaching over to pluck more grass to start again. A crown this time. When she was done, she held it out to him, wriggling it until he noticed. “King Murphy needs a crown, right?”

He looked back at her slowly and she tried to hide her surprise, seeing his little sharp face pale and a little wet. He scrubbed at his cheek with a rough motion, dragging his sleeve under his eye, and he grabbed the crown. Settled it very gently on top of his head.

“Thanks, Clarke.”

“Sure, kid. Anytime. I’m going to go talk with some of the others, okay, but you can talk to me anytime. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” She paused again. “Is it alright if I give you a hug?” she asked and waited until he nodded slowly before she leaned over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him for a second before letting him go. “Anytime,” she said again, and hopped up to go talk to some of the others. When she had checked on them all, she wandered back to Wells. “Hey buddy, can I ask what happened to your first sheet of paper?”

He cut a look over at Murphy. “Murphy took it,” he said, confirming her earlier suspicion. “But, Miss Clarke, don’t be mad? He asked first.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wanted to make something special,” Wells told her. “And I didn’t wanna bother you while you were talking to the older kids otherwise I would’ve asked for another sheet. I wasn’t upset, really. I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” Clarke held up her pinkie and Wells nodded quickly, hooking her pinkie with his. “Alright then. Hey, class is nearly over and it’s almost lunch time. You can pack up if you want.”

“Can I stay? I think I’m almost done with my landscape.” Clarke scratched at her nose to hide a smile. Kids. So freaking cute sometimes.

“Sure, no worries. And hey, if you ever need any more paper or pencils or anything, you can come and ask me. No matter who I’m talking to.”

“Okay.” Wells smiled shyly up at her. “Can I have another blue pencil?”

Clarke laughed and nodded. “I’ll see what I can find for you.”

After he had his pencil, Clarke made her way over to Murphy again. He noticed her approach and, however calm he had been, he fell immediately back into defensive. So she sat with him and said nothing, just pulled out her small notebook from her pocket and sketched a little.

“I didn’t steal it,” he blurted out finally. Clarke looked up. “I didn’t. The paper. I _asked_ Wells if I could have it.”

“I know.”

Murphy frowned. “What?”

“I know,” she repeated. “Wells told me.”

“Oh.” He deflated a little. “Oh, okay then.”

“He told me you wanted to make something special?” Clarke waved and smiled at a few of the older kids who were packing up their easel and paints and making their way to the art house to store them. An early lunch for them, apparently. “Can I ask what you’re making, Murphy?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “I’m sure it’s really good.”

“Whatever.”

She chewed nervously at a little piece of dry skin on her lip. She wasn’t experienced enough for this but even she could tell that Murphy was either homesick or really sad or really bothered about something. But how to coax it out of him?

She went with her gut – homesick.

“You know, I’ve never been to a camp like this before. It’s my first time.”

“Really?”

“Yep. You ever been before?”

“No.”

“Cool, both of us are first timers.” She held her hand up for a high five but he either didn’t see it or ignored her, hunching over his paper again. “Well. I wish I could write a letter or call up my dad and tell him about it.” Murphy froze, pencil stalling on the page. “He would love the horses. And the dogs, he really loved dogs.”

“Why don’t you?”

“He died,” she said quietly. Murphy turned fully toward her then.

“That’s really shit. Are you okay?”

Clarke nodded. “I’m getting better. I’m still sad sometimes though. It’s okay to be sad, you know?”

Murphy scowled. Not at her, but down at the page in his hand. She caught a glimpse this time – she was right, it _was_ a letter. “Clarke?”

“Yeah, Murphy?”

“If you _had_ written your dad a letter, would he have written back?” Clarke’s chest suddenly squeezed tight as she realized what was going on. One of her hands, her right, the furthest away from Murphy and hidden by her body so he couldn’t see, it dug into the soft dirt and she held her breath for a moment as she kept her face calm.

“He would have.”

“That’s good.” He was quiet for a little bit longer. “My parents haven’t written to me yet.” He opened his mouth again and hesitated, so Clarke waited. “I know we haven’t been here very long but lots of the other kids have got letters and packages and stuff and I just…” He shrugged.

“I’m sorry, Murphy.”

“Thanks.” He wiped at his cheeks again and then, very deliberately, ripped his letter in half. Clarke didn’t move to stop him and he kept ripping until it was in many small little squares. He gathered up all the pieces in both hands and stood. “I’m going to put this in the bin and go to lunch. Do you…want to come sit with us?”

“I have to pack up a few things first,” she said but before he could look too disappointed, Clarke hurried on. “Save me a seat at the table, though. I won’t be too long, I promise.”

He brightened at that and nodded. “Okay!”

* * *

“Lexa?”

“Yes?”

“Umm…if you’re done staring at Clarke, can we go to lunch?”

Lexa dragged her eyes away from the other counsellor and she stared at her students. All of them teenagers, with annoyingly specific knowing looks on their faces.

“We need to pack up here,” is all she said, and they hurried to do that. Lexa focused on collecting all the saddles and checking them over – her kids were usually really good about not damaging any of the equipment but wear and tear was an occupational factor.

“ _Now_ can we leave?”

“Did you give your horses a brush down?”

She was met with a chorus of yeses – and of course she knew they all had, she had been watching – but she was a little embarrassed and looking for a way to ask them or command them not to go spreading rumours about her. And they kept _grinning_ at her. She tried to think of another job for them but that would be abusing her power and probably against Lincoln’s guidelines so she sighed and gestured to the door.

“Go away.”

“Don’t worry,” the first one said as they left, “we won’t say anything.” She fixed them with a glare but apparently knowing she had a crush on a certain blonde made that ineffective.

“Go away,” she repeated.

She distracted herself for a while longer until she couldn’t anymore and with a final pat to the horse she had been riding that day, she closed the stables and made her way over to where Clarke was packing up.

“Need any help?”

Clarke shrieked, spun to face her, hand on her heart. When she had calmed, she gave her a small smile and shook her head. “Oh, no, no I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” But she didn’t stop Lexa from picking up the little tables and stools and walking with her up to the art house. “Good day?”

“Not bad.” Lexa put down her chairs, took the ones of Clarke and stacked them. “And yours?”

Clarke nodded but didn’t say anything more and she didn’t move to leave the room. Lexa leaned against the wall by the door and waited. “One of the kids was having a rough day,” Clarke said softly. She pushed her hands into her pockets and looked out the window down the bank to check they had collected everything. “We talked.” She sounded soft. A little tender. Definitely distracted. Lexa wanted to hug her but Clarke was keeping herself at a distance and for all their quick, sometimes chats, they hadn’t touched all that much.

She remembered the feeling of waking up with her.

Clarke shook her head, smiled. “Anyway, I’m going to lunch. Wanna come?”

Lexa nodded. Pushed off from the wall and waved Clarke out the door in front of her, closing it behind. They walked slowly and then, as they neared the cafeteria, even more slowly until they were barely moving at all as they approached the door. Lexa’s knuckles grazed the back of Clarke’s hand. Clarke’s breath caught in her throat and she turned toward Lexa. “Hey. Do you want to come to my cabin tonight? Make things even?”

“Is that the only reason?” Lexa heard herself ask, voice low.

Clarke smiled widely and Lexa noted the difference from the earlier smiles. This one was golden, reached her eyes. “I guess we’ll find out.” Her eyes dipped down to Lexa’s lips and she was going to say something when the door opened.

“Miss Clarke?” Clarke jerked backwards, turned towards the child. “Hey, Murphy and Wells are saving you a seat in there, they didn't know what you wanted so they didn't get you anything but there are sandwiches and juice boxes and,” she saw Lexa there then and her eyes widened. “Oh, sorry, I,”

“No, you’re fine Monroe. We're almost done. I’ll be right in. Thanks for finding me," she said as sincerely as she could. Monroe's discomfort at obviously interrupting a conversation disappeared and she nodded and closed the door. Clarke turned back to Lexa. “Tonight then?”

“Yes. I would like that.”

"Okay." Clarke reached out, watched carefully as she touched Lexa's wrist. Her skin was soft. Her fingertips were  _buzzing_. "Do you want to sit with us?"

"I'm afraid I can't." Lexa tilted her head toward the kitchen. "I have something for Jasper."

"Hey, hey, don't tell me. Plausible deniability." Clarke grinned. "Get your raspberries. I'll turn a blind eye - but if you need help with a mission, I'm up for it."

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you."


	11. Capture the Castle

Sky Crew: 1

Grounders: 0

* * *

“Lexa! Welcome to my humble abode,” Clarke said, sweeping her hand in a wide gesture around her cabin. Lexa stepped inside and closed the door behind her, laid the box and book she brought with her on the desk immediately to her left. “Would you like the tour?”

Lexa looked about the room, identical to her own cabin but two beds where she had one. “I can probably orient myself, but thank you.”

Clarke shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She yawned a little, caught it with a hand over her mouth, and rubbed her knuckles into gritty, tired eyes. “So,” she said, yawned again. “Did you bring over a raunchy chick lick or are you okay with just hanging out tonight?”

“Pardon? Chick lick?”

Clarke’s jaw dropped and her eyes wide in mock surprise. “ _Lexa_ ,” she gasped. “I never. Got something on the brain? I definitely said chick _lit_.”

“Of course you did.”

“Scouts honour.”

“Mhm. I did bring a book, yes.” They smiled at one another for a moment, little shared smiles, and then Lexa remembered herself. “Oh, I brought dessert. You missed it so,” she picked up the box again, held it out.

“You brought me dessert?” Clarke accepted the box with a smile, peeked into it. “Raspberry tart, what a surprise.” She said it kindly though, and snuck a guilty look up at Lexa as she popped one of the berries into her mouth. Then, “Only one spoon?”

“Oh well,” Lexa hadn’t really thought about that.

“That’s alright.” Clarke reached over, dragged her fingers down Lexa’s wrist, over the taut tendons there. “We can share.” She leaned back, pulled her hand away, when those tendons popped under her fingers as Lexa gripped harder onto the box. It was getting hard to breathe, so Clarke thought it was a good time to move. She dragged the chair over from the desk and set it to the side before dropping onto her bed.

She patted the space next to her and looked expectantly at Lexa, who made her way over with slow steps. “You can sit on Octavia’s bed, if you want,” Clarke offered, her stomach suddenly making itself known as it twisted nervously.

“This is fine.” Lexa sat next to her. The words weren’t encouraging, but the way Lexa said it so sure and with a little bob of her head, a small little swallow, calmed Clarke. Made her feel distinctly less like she was alone in feeling that they _had_ something.

“So.” Clarke crossed her legs underneath her. She grabbed her pillow and bunched it in her lap, using it as a table of sorts to balance the dessert box as she fished the spoon out from within. “Oh my god, I don’t even care if Jasper is doing illegal experiments on us, this is _delicious_.”

“It’s the raspberries,” Lexa said. She was sure of it.

Clarke smiled. Lexa was so intent on the taste of the berries, closed her eyes to savour it. It was ridiculously cute. “What did you have to trade for this?”

Lexa blinked her eyes open. Raspberries and Clarke, what a night. She dragged her mind away from a non PG-13 rated idea on how to improve the night, a combination of the aforementioned pair, and focused on the other woman. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh come on, everyone knows that Jasper is a bribing little sneak. So? What did he want?” Lexa seemed hesitant still to spill the metaphorical beans, so Clarke shrugged. “I’ve been on two runs to Monty’s for some chillis.”

“Ah yes, the chillis.”

“You too?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what he uses them for?” Clarke asked, accepted the dessert back with a happy little hum.

“I’ve found it’s best not to ask questions where Jasper is concerned.”

“It’s usually creepy?” Clarke’s second mouthful paused on its way to her mouth. Still moving closer – it was delicious enough to warrant eating still even if it measured anywhere between creepy and super creepy. Incredibly creepy is where she drew the line. She had morals.

“No, no,” Lexa said, and Clarke sighed with relief even as she popped the spoon in her mouth. “It’s just usually incomprehensible. He has about seven degrees in chemical engineering or some such vocation.” Lexa’s eyes took in all the details of the opposite half of the room – Octavia’s side, of course, the bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in and the bag hardly looked unpacked – so she wouldn’t comment on the crumbs in the corner of Clarke’s mouth. Although romantic movies seemed to think it was nice to invade personal space to point it out, to lean in and drag a thumb across what looked like incredibly soft skin to pick up a crumb as a guise for romantic motives, Lexa didn’t think it was appropriate in this case.

“You’ve got some crumbs, by the way.” Lexa pointed to her own lip,  and Clarke wiped at the wrong side of her mouth. When Lexa shook her head, Clarke moved to the right side and wiped it brusquely clean, raised her eyebrows.

“Good?”

“Perfect.”

Clarke licked her lips and handed the box back to her. “So, uh,” she cleared her throat. “Chemical engineering, that’s cool. What’s he doing here as a cook?”

“He likes to cook.”

Lexa liked the way Clarke laughed, cheeks bunching up, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and the sound of it was happy and loud and Lexa was sure her heart was beating too loudly and her skin was running too warm but she couldn’t find it in her to care because it was so nice. She grinned and popped one of the extra raspberries in her mouth and everything was warm, lovely, the tang of the berry flooding her mouth with the sharp edged taste that belonged to summer nights.

“Fair enough,” Clarke said when she had finished laughing and she rested her feet against Lexa’s leg and Lexa stole a pillow to bunch under her head so she could lie back and look, adoringly as it turned out to be, over at Clarke.

* * *

Bellamy hesitated, hand raised to knock. There were…sounds. Coming from inside Clarke’s cabin. And he wasn’t an idiot, all of the counselors knew that Lexa was going over to Clarke’s tonight and he wouldn’t intrude normally but Abby had absolutely _insisted_ that he get the completed arm bands to Clarke so she could look over them, since it was a group project and all, and she was kind of completely terrifying but now he was standing on Clarke’s porch and there were still sounds coming out the window, slightly cracked, and he bit his lip hard.

Drop them off and run, he told himself.

He knocked quietly – if they didn’t hear him, he could just leave immediately and –

“Bellamy!” Clarke answered the door, flung it open. She was clearly out of breath and a light sheen of sweat prickled across her forehead. “Hey, perfect. Lexa, Bellamy is here!”

“Oh good,” Lexa groaned. “He can take over, I’m exhausted.”

Bellamy swallowed hard. “Uh. Sorry to interrupt. I just came to drop off the armbands.” He shoved them into Clarke’s arms and she grabbed them and then grabbed him.

“Great, come on, we need your help.”

“With?” As he stepped inside, it became clear. He was relieved that he hadn’t intruded on anything private, but pushing the two beds together gave rise to a whole other lot of questions he didn’t want to start on.

“Help me push the beds together?” Clarke half asked, half demanded. “O is barely here anyway,”

“La la la,” Bellamy said, blocking that out, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Oh get over yourself. She’s an adult.”

“Yeah but,” he grumbled, “no yeah I know. Fine. You said something about the beds?”

“Yeah, since she’s not around, I thought I would make myself a double bed. A luxury item, honestly.” He nodded. “And it’ll give us plenty of space to hangout.”

“Right.” ‘ _Hangout_ ’. So that was what they were calling it these days. Still, he rolled up his sleeves and obliged, working for a few minutes with them to shove Octavia’s bed until it was pressed against Clarke’s. The frames were made of wood, heavy, and when it was over Bellamy bent over double. Braced his hands on his knees. “Jesus.”

“Thank you, Bell.”

“Sure, princess, you’re welcome.” He stood up, patted his chest. “Well, don’t let me interrupt…” he waved between them.

“Okay, I think it’s time for you to go, thank you again,” Clarke said sharply and he saluted her.

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Out, Bellamy.”

“Yep, yes, will do, Captain,” he said with a cheeky smile and a wink and he backed hurriedly out of the cabin.

Lexa continued to make the bed as they spoke, tucking in the sheets, and when he stepped out, she asked the question that had been nagging at her.

“Does everyone think that we’re sleeping together?”

Clarke laughed. “Yeah, I think so.” She closed the door, locked it, and looked over to Lexa, who had flopped bonelessly onto the newly made bed. She hesitated. Lexa was…she was gorgeous and hot and her arms were just _wow_ and Clarke absolutely took her sweet time looking her over. Finally, Lexa cleared her throat and Clarke dragged her eyes up to meet Lexa’s. “I can think of worse pairings,” Clarke said, voice low and suggestive, and Lexa smiled.

“You and Lincoln.”

Clarke blinked. Oh. Lexa was taking that as a challenge. Okay. She winced. “Octavia would kill me.” She thought for a moment. “Actually, no, she would just be crushed.” Clarke frowned heavily. “Oh god.” She rubbed at her heart. “That’s…that’s really sad. I have to think about something else,” she said, blinking the thought of a heart-broken Octavia out of her mind. “Uh…you and Abby,” Clarke suggested, climbing onto the bed.

Lexa just looked thoughtful at that. “She’s quite lovely, actually.” Clarke raised her eyebrows. “Very intelligent, very fit,” Lexa continued. “Incredibly ambitious and skilled. She’s at the top of her field, you know. She’s quite a catch.”

“That’s fair.” Clarke wrinkled her nose. “She’s been a bit like a mother to me though so,” she shook her head. “No, nah, I can’t think about that either. Next.”

Lexa laughed. “You and Raven.”

“Oh I would be up for that,” Clarke said, no hesitation.

“But you fight all the time.”

“Nothing wrong with a little friction in the bedroom,” Clarke said with a waggle of her eyebrows and Lexa snorted. “You and Finn.”

Lexa’s entire face scrunched in displeasure. “As if.”

“What? He seems nice.”

“I’m sure he is. He is, however, male.”

“Got it.” Clarke nodded. “Okay, you and Octavia.”

Lexa looked genuinely thoughtful before she shook her head no. “Again, Lincoln would be heartbroken and I admire him far too much to do a thing like that.”

“Plus, they’re super cute together.”

“Very,” Lexa agreed, nodding.

“So, I guess the only person I fit with is you,” Clarke said nonchalantly, tucking her hands behind her head.

“I suppose so.”

“What a coinkidink that I have you all alone in my cabin.” Clarke paused. “Please forget I used the word coinkidink.”

“I cannot.”

“That’s fair.”

“I will, however, never use it against you.”

“So chivalrous, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

A silly conversation, by all measures, but they spoke in hushed murmurs and inched closer as they exchanged it, and it didn’t feel silly at all but strained and sparking energy between them. And still, they hesitated.

“I have ulterior motives,” Clarke murmured, and her eyes dipped low to fixate on Lexa’s lips. Her breath puffed out against Lexa’s chin. The other woman swallowed hard.

“Ulterior motives?”

“Yes.”

“What are they?” Lexa’s arms shook from the effort to keep herself those last few inches away from Clarke. Why was she hesitating? She didn’t know.

“I want to draw you,” Clarke whispered and their positions somehow shifted so it was Lexa laying flat on her back and Clarke was hovering over her and then she was reaching – to the side, to the book on her bedside table, and her pencil, and she was grazing awfully close to Lexa’s side.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa cleared her throat, “did you want me to get that-“

“No, I’ve got it-“

“I’ll just move a litt-“

“You’re fine, I’m good, here we go,” and Clarke was back on her side of the bed clutching the book with both hands and Lexa was laying ramrod straight and both of them, no doubt about it, felt the crackle of energy. “Oh fuck this.” Clarke tossed her book down the end of her bed and stared intently at her companion. “Do you like me? Because I like you a lot and I really don’t feel like wasting any time.”

“I do. Very much.”

“Alright.” Clarke allowed herself a beaming smile. “Good.”

“Very good. May I kiss you?”

“Can I kiss you?” they both said over one another and they shared a small, delighted smile and Clarke shuffled a little closer, nodding a yes, and Lexa sat up so her back was against the wall so they were even. Clarke tucked a strand of hair behind her own ear. Lexa licked her lips.

When they kissed, their smiles ended it almost immediately. Clarke huffed a laugh against Lexa’s lips. The first touch made them buzz, from the top of their heads down to their toes, and they couldn’t help the smile. But the second kiss, it was gentle and sweet and slow and Clarke curled her hand around the back of Lexa’s neck and Lexa closed one hand around Clarke’s hip and pulled her a little closer and the third kiss continued on at some point from the second and it was a little deeper, still soft, and everything tasted like toothpaste and raspberries and something warm and golden and sparkling, rough edged, like fireworks or champagne or – it clicked with Clarke, like embers rising from the firewood, the rough edge of the smoke and the spark of the fire and she fell happily into the fourth kiss before she pulled away, her smile tucked into the corners of her lips, small and private and delighted.

Lexa’s eyes fluttered open and she traced the corner of Clarke’s smile for a moment with a careful finger. Then, she nodded. Cleared her throat.

“You said you wanted to draw me?”

“I did,” Clarke confirmed, and she pulled back a little more and let her hand drop onto Lexa’s and held onto that as she leaned back to collect her sketchbook. “You just sit there and look pretty, read your book or something.”

“Do I need to do anything else?”

“No, you’re perfect.”

Lexa nodded and shyly tugged on Clarke’s hand, pulling her forward for another kiss and her lips burned hot and then hot-cold when she pulled away. She couldn’t stop licking her lips and Clarke didn’t hesitate to point that out.

“You’re super distracting,” she muttered. “Stop licking your lips.”

“They’re tingling,” Lexa said. “I can’t help it.”

Clarke grinned down at her sketchbook. “Tingling, huh?”

“Yes.” Lexa read for a while, then abandoned her book to watch Clarke instead. She was softer, totally absorbed in drawing. She was beautiful. “If you don’t mind my asking,” Lexa said quietly, “What are you working on?”

“Just a series of sketches I’m putting together. Things, people, places that have made me happy,” Clarke said lightly, like it wasn’t as incredibly important as it sounded. Lexa opened her book again and swallowed hard and wonderfully failed to contain her pleased smile.

* * *

It was early.

The sky was a pale, pale, blue – the sun burning all the colour out of it.

Abby wandered around with a crate of water bottles and sunscreen and sent children scrambling back to their cabins for missing hats.

Lincoln stood in front of them all, chest puffed out in pride at the shirt he had made. BOSS, all in capitals, all in black, read across the chest of his white shirt and, Clarke noted from her place just behind him, across the back as well. She cut a quick glance to her right and didn’t hear the beginning of Lincoln’s speech – Lexa was standing there and god did she look good in green.

“-other activities are cancelled for today’s event. Can I get a drum roll please?” Lincoln beamed when, as one, the children stamped their feet and drummed at their knees and thighs. A hush fell when Lincoln raised both his arms. “Capture the Castle,” he boomed, and the children cheered.

“The rules are simple,” Octavia took over. Lincoln gave her a fond smile and stepped back. “Each team will set up their castle on opposite sides of camp. Your fearless leaders, as chosen by you, are…Clarke! Wave your hand, you glorious woman, you.” Clarke rolled her eyes at Octavia, but smiled at the kids and waved – to raucous cheers from her Sky Crew. “And Lexa, Commander of my heart, wave please.” Lexa actually smiled at her, a rare sight, and Octavia silently put that down to her having had a _very_ pleasant night. Lexa waved to the Grounders, who gnashed their teeth and cried their wild cries. “Now, meet your damsels in distress.” Octavia frowned thoughtfully. “Panicked princes? No, wait, I’ve got it. Regents to be rescued. Everyone, welcome Bellamy!”

Bellamy stepped forward, tiara neatly in place on top of his curls. He curtsied solemnly to the crowd.

“And Finn!”

Finn stepped out next to Bellamy, glorious hair likewise pinned under his tiara. He gave a lovely wave to the crowd and Clarke hid a smile under her hand when several voices called out, “We’ll save you Finn!” Bellamy nearly pouted.

“No one said that to me,” he complained to Clarke, who patted his arm soothingly.

“It’s okay, Bell, we’ll save you.”

“Thanks, Clarke.”

“Before we start,” Lincoln bellowed, quieting everyone, “your captains will go over the rules will you but some more general rules, please. No fighting. No gouging, no maiming, no tackling. No making people bleed. No traps – no rope traps, no pit traps. No _weapons_.” He took a breath to continue and Octavia cleared her throat. “That’s enough?” he asked quietly and she nodded. “Alright. Good. Go have fun. Enjoy. Win!”

Lexa wasn’t surprised when Clarke drifted over to her. She felt like there were magnets in her joints, her stomach, filling her lips, the tips of her fingers more powerful still, drawing her closer to the other woman.

“Ready to lose again?” Clarke taunted. She tucked her thumbs into her pockets. Eyes darted over Lexa’s face. Those _cheekbones_. Those _lips_. Clarke rocked back on her heels, knowing she was way too close to kissing her in front of all their troops.

“You wish, Griffin,” Lexa snarled back and then, dear god, they were only an inch apart and the air was on fire, hardly any oxygen between them, Clarke was already having difficulty breathing.

“You’re going down.”

She tried not to think of the connotation there. Lexa’s lips definitely twitched – smirk alert, aisle three – but she pressed them down into a straight line, focused on what was important here. The kid’s fun day – but more importantly, their own pride.

“I’ll make you eat your words.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I hope you’re not a sore loser, Griffin.”

“Big talk for someone who hasn’t won yet, Woods.” Lexa near enough snarled and Clarke grinned. “How about we make this interesting?”

Lexa’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting how?” Oh, she knew how she wanted to make it interesting.

The children held their breath – they had been without television for two weeks now. This was the best thing they had ever seen.

“Loser has to do the others chores.”

“For how long?”

“The whole week.”

“Agreed. And the winner?”

“Bragging rights, of course. And if I win, you’re posing for my art class.” A handful of the kids – the older ones, those smirking little brats Lexa had in her class earlier that week – had the audacity to laugh outright.

“Fine. But _when_ I win, you’re going to help me muck the stables.” Clarke shrugged, held out her hand. Lexa shook it firmly and they stood there for a few long moments until Octavia came to pry them apart.

“Holy sexual tension Batman,” Octavia murmured to Clarke. “Yikes. Don’t go slamming her into a tree and making out where all the kiddos can see you, okay?”

“Bite me, O.”

“Ooh. Kinky. Maybe later.”

* * *

Clarke rubbed her forehead. They had twenty minutes before the match was to start and she still wasn’t sure that the kids understood the rules. They were still asking questions.

“Miss Clarke, can Bellamy tell us where they are?”

“No, he’s not allowed to talk.”

“Can he punch people?”

“No, he just has to sit there and wait for us to rescue him.”

“Oh.”

Clarke’s group nodded thoughtfully, thinking over the rules. She scratched at her neck, forcibly casual. God, she wasn’t made for the woods. All those ants and bugs and dirt.

“Okay but, Miss Clarke, can we leave the jail?”

“I’ve already explained this, Diggs. You get caught, you go to jail. Another team member can break you out of jail if they haven’t been tagged – they just have to tag all the jailkeeper and get the key.”

“The blue flag.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Clarke looked over her group – almost _fifty children_. Waiting on her command. It was actually kind of a rush. She shook her head hard, dismissed any megalomaniacal plans. It’s not like you could actually take over a country with a small band of children. Right? Right.

She loved how excited they got over the armbands she handed out – blue – and the little swirl for air. So what if she stole it from Avatar? It looked super cool. The Grounders had green with a black square – for rock, earth, ground, whatever they wanted it to mean. Clarke knelt down so that Monroe could tie it onto her arm and turned to do the same for the small kid, who positively _beamed_ at her.

“Now remember,” Clarke said, looking down at her watch. They still had about ten minutes before the game began. “Bellamy can’t move without us so we have to get him home safely. Even if he’s three steps away from our castle, if we all get tapped out, he goes back to the Grounder castle. Got it?”

Firm nods from every direction.

She wondered if it would be pushing it to start a war cry but if not now, when? She dipped her hand into the black paint – blue would just give them away – and streaked it over her cheeks.

“Who are we?”

“Sky Crew!” a few eager voices said from the front, then faltered when no one else joined in. But Clarke nodded.

“Who are we?” she asked again, a little louder, and this time they all yelled back at her.

“Sky! Crew!”

“ _Who are we?”_

“SKY CREW!”

* * *

There was a leaf in Clarke’s hair, her clothes were irreversibly stained with mud, she was sure her face was caked in mud and dirt and paint. She wasn’t sure what was happening, only that she was running and running fast and then she was falling and there was a weight on her legs and, when she looked over her shoulder, it was Lexa.

Of course it was.

“I have the Captain. Get the regent, _go_.” Lexa’s eyes followed her little troop of soldiers until they disappeared before she deigned give Clarke any attention at all. “What have we here?” she crowed. She sat up enough for Clarke to turn over onto her back but promptly sat again.

“You broke the no tackling rule.”

“Oops.”

“Oops my ass. You just wanted to touch me.” Lexa didn’t respond to that, just smiled a little more, and Clarke had to smile back because Lexa looked excited and invigorated. The thrill of the game, probably. And Clarke wasn’t lacking in confidence – at least half of Lexa’s excitement was because she had Clarke pinned to the ground, she was sure of it. “You may have caught me,” Clarke said, falling back into the game when she saw some kids approaching, “but you haven’t got Bellamy back.”

“It’s just a matter of time. He can’t be far.”

“You underestimate our tactics.” Clarke knew that they should be standing up. The longer Lexa had her pinned down, the less appropriate it was. Lexa knew it too because she sighed and stood, offered Clarke a hand to help her up as well.

But all of this wasn’t before a small voice said from the bushes, “You should’ve kissed her”, and a few other bodiless voices murmured their agreement. The bushes rustled, leaves fell, and Clarke put a hand on Lexa’s arm to stop her from going after them.

“Don’t bother, they’re gone.”

“You did hear that, didn’t you?”

“You should’ve kissed her?” Clarke repeated. “Yeah. Loud and clear.”

“It’s so _odd_ ,” Lexa insisted. “They’ve never done this before.”

They began their slow walk back to the Grounder camp, Lexa escorting her to the jail. Clarke shrugged. “Hey, you can’t really blame them. We do have wicked chemistry.”

“I suppose so.”

“Admit it.”

“Fine, yes, we do.” They exited the line of trees – so many little faces were suddenly looking at them so whatever Lexa wanted to say, she changed her mind. “I just have one question for you, Captain.”

“Ask it.”

Clarke couldn’t help smile – she ducked her head, of course, pretended to be grim and defeated. It was just so much _fun_ playing the game, playing the tough as nails Captain, challenging the tough, and incredibly beautiful, Commander. She had a whole backstory for the two of them, rife with misery and angst and hardship and all of that. She couldn’t wait to tell Octavia all about it.

“Our regent. How does he fare?”

“He is safe. And ours?”

“Don’t play coy, Captain. You know as well as I that he’s been freed. You should know that it's futile. We will regain your precious regent and we will save our own. The victory _will_ be ours.” Lexa pressed her forwards, toward the jail where a dozen or so miserable faces looked up at Clarke. She sat with them and sighed, watching Lexa turn sharply on her heel and march away.

What a view.

* * *

A few hours into the game, and Clarke had been in jail and broken out of jail and in jail again and broken out once more. She had scrapes and bruises aplenty, she was tired, she was _exhilarated_ and getting way too serious about the game if she were honest. 

Clarke was deep in the woods with a squad of her soldiers, carefully skirting their way back to the Grounder castle. Her team, specially selected to get in and out with Bellamy as she distracted Lexa and the main army from the front gate. Grab Bellamy and make a run for it. It was a rough kind of plan but she thought it had honest merit. Plus, everyone was getting tired and hungry – it was almost lunch so all in seemed like the way to go.

She could see Lexa pacing from within the safety of her castle.

Clarke turned to her group. “I’m going to the front. Any volunteers to go with me?” From the fifteen or so kids she had with her, Monroe and Murphy and Atom’s hands shot up. She honestly wasn’t surprised. “Alright. The rest of you, you know the plan. When they’re distracted, go in small groups. One of you, break the others out of the jail. One group gets Bellamy. The others stay at a distance in case they try to tag his movers out. Got it?” They nodded. “Good. Go. Quick and quiet. May we meet again.”

“May we meet again,” they murmured back to her, and then they were gone.

They were getting very good at this disappearing into the woods thing, she noted with some unease as they seemed to fade into the underbrush.

After a few moments, Clarke lifted her chin. Stood. Walked with all the confidence in the world out into the open and toward the castle. A few of the grounders saw her and ran right at her, hands outstretched. Murphy and Monroe shot up from the bushes to tag them out and glared at anyone else who thought they might try to tag Clarke out.

“I’m here to speak to the Commander,” Clarke called.

“We do not make deals with the enemy.” Indra stood on her tiptoes to call that out at her.

“We want to see her!” Murphy demanded, and Indra poked her tongue out at him. He gasped, turned to Clarke. “Did you see that? Clarke! Did you see that?”

“I saw, Murphy.”

“Rude!”

“Fight me, Murphy,” Indra yelled, and she only calmed down when Lexa stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“If you are here to trick us, Clarke, to distract us while you attempt – and fail – to free your regent, it won’t work.” Lexa looked so calm, so sure, Clarke’s stomach sank into her boots.

“What have you done?”

Lexa raised her hand. A small army of Grounders appeared, leading Clarke’s squad to the jail, all with hanging heads and scuffling boots. Not even one had escaped. “Your regent isn’t here anymore.”

“What have you done, Lexa?”

“Nowhere in the rules did it say we had to keep him in our castle. He’s gone.”

“You played us.” Clarke folded her hands into tight fists. “You _played_ us.”

“No. I just did what I had to do.” Lexa lifted her hand again and they came for her and for Murphy, for Monroe, for Atom. Clarke allowed herself to be dragged away to the jail. It was no surprise when, only a few minutes later, Lexa returned with Finn.

Lexa spoke quietly into her radio and then a horn sounded, confirmed the victory. An end to the event.

In the face of betrayal, treachery, sneak tactics, it actually took Clarke a moment or two of deep breathing and reminding herself that it was just a game to shake off the disappointment of losing.

Lexa approached her cautiously. “Clarke?” She looked not timid, but a little withdrawn. Probably afraid that Clarke would take what had happened seriously. But Clarke just smiled and then laughed and reached out to shake Lexa’s hand.

“Good game. We’re gonna kick your asses in the next one though.”

Lexa tilted her head, offered Clarke a small, _small_ fond smile. “We’ll see,” she said. Clarke wanted to kiss her again.  

**Author's Note:**

> This is fluff and fun and we're going to have a good time. (unicyclehippo on tumblr as well - come say hello if you want)


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